


The Ascendancy

by EmotionalrangeofateaspoonCW



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29406459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmotionalrangeofateaspoonCW/pseuds/EmotionalrangeofateaspoonCW
Summary: When Hermione returns from a mastery at the L'Ecole Internationale des Affaires Magiques Cooperatives, she channels her newfound skills into a legislative career with the DMLE at the recommendation of her friend and mentor, Kingsley Shacklebolt. As their progressive agenda builds momentum in the Wizengamot, Hermione and Kingsley find their relationship gaining momentum as well.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Dean Thomas/Astoria Greengrass, Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Kingsley Shacklebolt, Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1: The Graduate

Chapter 1: The Graduate

Her laughter rang out across the room as Arthur Weasley snapped picture after picture of her and her two best friends. Harry and Ginny each leaned in to mash a sloppy kiss to each of her cheeks, and Hermione's resulting giggle and grin lit up the trio as they immortalized Hermione's graduation day in the golden light filtering in through the large bay library window of Number 12 Grimmauld place. Hermione's graduation cap was perched jauntily upon her plaited curls that gracefully wrapped into a chignon at the base of her neck, and her fitted white shift dress glowed in the evening sun.

It occurred to him that she had never more looked like the embodiment of Golden Trio, Princess of the Light. Her crown was evidence of her brains and determination, and she shone with the joy of an accomplishment hard won. Hermione was a vision of brains, grace, and beauty. But as his mind drifted back to the meandering conversation he was supposed to be engaged in with several of his Department Heads, he reminded himself that those thoughts were a temptation he could not afford to indulge in.

"With the social justice track you're pursuing, you could hardly wish more for her to return to your department. After her success with the Werewolf Integration Agenda, you have to believe she'd consider returning to further advance some of the magical being rights that have yet to be advanced in their own legislative packages," said Miranda Hawkins, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation to Amos Diggory, Department Head of The Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "Kingsley, has she indicated to you where she would like to return to within the Ministry? Please don't tell me she's considering going non-governmental with her experience…" inquired a slightly distraught Miranda.

"Well, I wouldn't blame her if she did," muttered Amos. "I hear that The Heritage Foundation has been sniffing around her coattails. Word is they were involved in some of the work that she did in France for her thesis, and that the Burbages would be thrilled to onboard her officially," with an air of dejection in his voice.

"You all don't give Ms. Granger enough credit," intoned an imperial sounding Evelyn Roberts, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as she joined their little group. "And why is that?" Replied Hawkins waspishly. "What insider information might you possess that makes you think that?" "No insider information, Miranda. Just a keen sense of observation. Ms. Granger has never been one to shy away from working radically within the current system. You're right that The Heritage Foundation has shown a flattering amount of interest in becoming the new platform for launching Ms. Granger's new career, but their leverage for enduring change does not align with Ms. Granger's need to codify her progressive views," Evelyn responded with a fond smile.

Kingsley chuckled at this. Evelyn had nailed it. "You seem to have given a great deal of thought to the trajectory of Ms. Granger's career, Evelyn," Kingsley mused. "This wouldn't have to do with some of the new hires you've made in her absence, would it?" Kingsley asked knowingly. "Minister, you know as well as I do the vision I have for the DMLE. It would be grossly negligent of me to not consider how Ms. Granger might be a wonderful addition to my team," Evelyn replied with that crisp polite tone she had perfected over the years Kingsley had known her. Merlin, could that woman tell you how to go fuck yourself with a smile, and you never being the wiser.

"Right as always, Evelyn. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I am going to give the graduate herself my best wishes and then take my leave. For the love of all that is holy, please do not descend on the girl like a pack of vultures after I am gone. Let the girl enjoy her achievement for a moment, before you try to convince the girl to commit the next 10 years of her career to your noble causes." And with that, Kingsley departed from their conversation and began to make his way across the room to Hermione Granger.

\- - - - -

For the first time in 3 years, Hermione finally felt like she was home. After her abrupt departure from London to pursue her post secondary training in Public Administration at L'Ecole Internationale des Affaires Magiques Cooperatives and investing herself in the thesis and field work of her capstone project within the French Ministry, she was finally back in Britain. Internally, she knew her decision to pursue her mastery in Public Affairs was a classic and patented Hermione Granger avoidance technique, but after all that she went through in the six months leading up to her departure, she couldn't help but be grateful that her inclination to dealing with problems in her personal life was to expand her academic horizons. Brains would take you anywhere and everywhere, and brains was something Hermione possessed in abundance.

And for the first time in four years, there were people here celebrating her brains – actively engaging in supporting her academic accomplishments! Harry, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Andromeda, little Teddy, Bill, Fleur, George, even Percy had come out to welcome her home with her new degree in tow. Her friends, Luna, Neville, Dean, and the Patil sisters were in the mix, catching up with their Hogwarts peers. There were other members of the Order who still came out to support the Golden Trio and their accomplishments, Kingsley, chief among them; contacts of his and Hermione's from her Ministry days mingled among family and friends. The only one missing was Ron. And honestly, Hermione wasn't disappointed in the slightest.

Hermione sat in a rocking chair with the young Teddy Lupin sitting in her lap, animatedly narrating his most recent adventure with his godfather Harry in which a visit to a magical zoo featuring a whole host of fantastic magical creatures. Making all of the appropriate noises of shock and awe to appease Teddy, Hermione's thoughts drifted to Ron. Their falling out was legendary; it played out in the media, as much as it wreaked destruction in her personal life. The Golden Trio had dwindled down to the Golden Duo for all intents and purposes; despite Ronald being Harry's first friend, Harry was Hermione's brother. When push came to shove, Harry's loyalties lay with her. To be fair, so did the loyalty of the rest of the Weasley's and the Order. In the course of everything that came to light during the investigation, Hermione never stopped receiving visits and letters from those that mattered most to her detailing their respect, love, and support for their beloved bookworm.

Ron's fall from grace in wizarding society was a spectacle no one could miss. Apparently, society drew the line at one of their heroes using his romantic relationship – or was it relationships? – and fame to embezzle funds from a multitude of post-war charities that Hermione was the public face of, and that Ron lent his begrudging support behind the scenes. Unfortunately, the behind-the-scenes work meant his involvement in logistics (because "what better a role than for a chess player known for his strategy and forethought, right Hermione?"), as well as some more…physical…involvement with a less than scrupulous witch named Eleanor who oversaw the dispersal of funds and began dispersing them to Ronald.

The embezzlement was short-lived, as was Eleanor's patience for Ronald leaving Hermione to be with her. The whole…affair…came to light splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet; it was only due to Hermione's personal relationship with the editor who had overseen the society pages after ensuring Rita Skeeter and her former editor's removal from the Prophet permanently that she had any warning. Hermione's distressed arrival to Number 12 Grimmauld Place in the middle of a dinner party was the stuff of legends, her magic crackling and threatening to spill over and unleash; the moment Harry learned what Ron had done, he had circled the wagons and made it clear that anyone who publicly spoke in favor of Ron would subsequently lose Harry's public support.

The investigation was closely monitored by Kingsley and the DMLE to ensure that the discovery and release of information was above reproach. It was quickly revealed that Hermione had no idea of what Ronald was doing, nor that he had effectively blown through his financial award from the war and was in desperate need of additional funds. His Auror career was terminated immediately, and he was ultimately sentenced to five years in the newly created Wingate Wizard Prison, a far more humane form of magical incarceration that had been established in the early years after the Second Wizarding War. Some of the greatest failures of Wizarding society were ingrained in Azkaban's existence and modus operandi. One of the first things Kingsley had worked to repair was the cruelty of the criminal justice system.

Kingsley's commitment to justice was one of the things Hermione most admired about the man. During her years in school, she had always noticed the fine line he had walked being an Auror during the horrible times of Voldemort's second reign and how whatever he ultimately did or decided fell firmly within the bounds of his principles that bent towards justice, regardless of the means.

But it wouldn't do her good to let her mind wander down the six-month rabbit hole of her life following the revelation of Ron's misdeeds, much less let her mind wander to the six months of purgatory she endured prior to his downfall. It's not so much that things were horribly wrong on the surface between the two of them, but it was just how wrong things were beneath the surface, that Hermione Jean Granger and all of her formidable intellect didn't recognize, that absolutely killed her. She prided herself on reading the signs, seeing the big picture, and she failed miserably in this instance.

Before her thoughts could wind too far in that direction, Hermione was pulled back to the present by Teddy's exclamation of "Kings! I saw a phoenix the other day and it was JUST. LIKE. YOURS." Kingsley's smile was affectionate and conspiratorial towards young Teddy. "You know, I'm convinced that Mirage has decided you are her youngling Teddy boy. The colors of your hair the last time you saw her were the most perfect match I've seen you make to her yet! I think you have her convinced!" he said with a soft nudge of his finger to uplift the young boy's chin. Teddy's eyes grew wider at that statement. "Mione, did you hear that? I think Mirage loves me! I have to go find Nana Dromeda and tell her. Maybe she'll let me go see Mirage again so I can practice!" And with that, Teddy bounded off through crowd to find Andromeda leaving Hermione to stand and greet Kingsley.

"Hermione, well done," Kingsley said as he pulled her into a hug. There was something infinitely comforting about his warm baritone and gentle inflection that made Hermione so grateful for his friendship. "Kingsley, it is so good to finally be home. My love for France is real, and deep, but London has this je ne sais quoi that I just haven't been able to find in Paris," she sighed as she happily leaned into his hug. "But thank you. I am so happy to be back. And it is so good to see you, my friend."

She stepped back from his embrace to look up at him. Kingsley's eyes radiated the kindness and friendship she had come to treasure in the years since the war. Their exchange of letters over the years had provided Hermione with the mentorship she didn't realize she needed. Not long after her graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione had been inundated with offers for both magical mastery apprenticeships, ministry employment, and full time-charity appointments with a focus on rebuilding; one night, as she had been mulling over the letters, spread out in front of her, with notes jotted in the margins, and pros and cons lists littering the coffee table amongst the letters, Kingsley had wandered into the library at Grimmauld. What was supposed to be a quick perusal of tomes for a work specifically dealing with the history of Azkaban and its codification into wizarding society, turned into Kingsley having one of his first and most in-depth conversations with the young Ms. Granger. Her reputation certainly preceded her, but Kingsley still found himself in awe of her intellect, attention to detail, and nuanced understanding of the society in which she was going to debut her fledgling career as they discussed the decisions she faced. That night, he made a standing offer to Hermione – should she ever need insight into wizarding career paths, the justice system, or the legislative process he would be happy to receive and respond to her letters.

It had taken less than a month for her first letter to come across his desk. Despite the hardships of his role as the newly inaugurated Minister, he read and responded to her letter almost immediately. She had chosen to take a role as a legislative aide in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And it wasn't long before she began to hit stumbling blocks with the Wizengamot. Despite Kingsley's best intentions, meaningful Wizengamot reform had not been possible in the short time he had been appointed. However, he did have some allies in the legislative body that he could point her towards and with some judicious relationship building and her trademark tenacity, it would be a pathway forward.

Her response to his letter was one of gratitude and a subsequent list of follow up questions, as well as astute insights from her tentative forays into legislative negotiations in a prejudiced judicial environment. Some of her insights were so pointed and impactful that Kingsley had questions of his own for the young Ms. Granger and detailed them into a letter wanting her opinion on some legislative reforms percolating in his own mind. Ms. Granger's background in the muggle world and her knowledge of their legal systems opened up a realm of philosophical and judicial possibilities for Kingsley as he further settled into his Minister's position.

Their correspondence continued over the years, even after her departure from London to France. He was the first to learn of her intention to return after graduation, and it made him smile to know that their friendship was just as valued by her as it was by him. "Hermione, now that you're back on British soil, I believe I owe you your first official cup of British Tea. Come by the ministry on Monday, and I will make sure my schedule is clear to properly welcome you back to British Wizarding Society. Word is that you've found a townhome in Muggle London for your official residence of record?" he asked with a raised brow. "Yes, it's not far from the Ministry entrance, and there's a lovely little neighborhood that reminds me of where I grew up," she replied.

"Well, I'm sure it's a lovely area with much to offer. I'm always looking for a good curry spot, so if you come across any of those, you'll have to let me know," he said with a wink. "And as much as I would like to continue catching up, I am afraid I must take my leave. I have a Ministry event later this evening, and I cannot stay much longer. But I did want to let you know how proud I am of what you have accomplished, and I look forward to seeing what you choose to do with your time moving forward."

"Eight o'clock Monday Kings? I think we're long overdue for that cuppa," Hermione said with a brilliant smile. "It was so good seeing you this evening Kingsley. I look forward to our meeting on Monday," as she leaned in for a final one-armed hug.

"That sounds wonderful, Mione," Kingsley said as he leaned in and dropped his head towards her right ear. "However, I'd be remiss if I didn't warn you on my way out: following my exit, I imagine you're going to be inundated by my peers. The Ministry is eager to retain your services now that you're back in the country. If I were you, I'd find time for a chat with Ms. Roberts. She might have an intriguing offer," he whispered with a knowing grin. Kingsley gave her shoulder one final tight squeeze, and she flashed him a grateful smile and then watched as he made his way to the Floo. His personal Auror, Benjamin Hayes, fell in behind him and escorted him into the bright green flames as they disappeared with a flash.

It wasn't but a moment later, that one Arthur Weasley escorted a well-coiffed, tall and stoic looking Evelyn Roberts over to introduce her to Hermione. Hermione straightened her shoulders and met Ms. Roberts frank gaze with a welcoming smile. "Ms. Granger, a well-deserved congratulations is due, I believe. I've been tracking your progress and studies, and I have to say that what you've accomplished under your thesis work has wide reaching implications for the advancement and growth of wizarding society. Not many have had a vision as nuanced or far-reaching as yours in recent years, and your ability to execute your ideas was most impressive," stated Evelyn. "I presume, Kingsley forewarned you I wanted to chat. You seem to know who I am," she said with a knowing lift of her eyebrow. "I am the Head of the DMLE, and if you find it convenient, I would like you to drop by my office on Monday after your meeting with Kingsley," Evelyn requested.

"I appreciate the kind words, Ms. Roberts. I didn't realize that my work in France was so closely followed abroad," said Hermione gracefully. "If it suits, I could be at your offices around 9:30 Monday morning?" "I look forward to seeing you then, Ms. Granger. Now, I must also take my leave, but congratulations again Hermione," said Evelyn. She threaded her arm through Arthur's once more, and took her leave, "I do hope you'll take me to say goodbye to Molly before I go, for it's been far too long…" Her voice faded as Arthur nodded goodbye at Hermione and led Evelyn away.

"Tired?" whispered a cheeky voice in her left ear, as she felt her best friend's arm slip around her waist. "Ginny, I think I have made it about as long as I can around this crowd. With the ceremony Friday, the move back to London this morning, and this lovely get-together, I am simply done-in," Hermione whispered back. They turned to face one another. "Well, you know that I am ALWAYS happy to help you make a getaway…Fred and George taught me well," Ginny said with a sneaking smile. "Go on, and head home. I'll make your excuses to those that need to know. If you use the office, you can Apparate if you wish. Harry told me that you're still keyed in to the wards if you'd like."

She could feel a relieved and grateful smile wash across her face. Her eyes scanned the room and found Harry, who gave her a knowing wink and then focused back on to his conversation with Neville and George. Bless that man, Hermione thought to herself. Always looking out for me. She gave Ginny a quick kiss on the cheek, and before anyone was the wiser had slipped into the hallway and made her way to Harry's office. The office was one of her favorite rooms in the renovated Grimmauld, though nothing could compare to the library once Harry had finished cleaning and reappointing the furnishings. Harry's office reminded her of him, with earthen tones, warm wooden furniture, and green accents that were a shade darker and more tamed than his eyes; the carpet was warm and cozy under her feet as she slipped out of her heels and sighed with relief. It was such a welcoming space that Hermione almost wanted to go lay on his large, buttery soft camel brown leather couch and just rest her head right there – just for a minute. But instead, she dropped a quick thank you note on his desk and then picked up her shoes, and spun on the spot, leaving Grimmauld Place behind.

\- - - - -

Hermione landed softly in the entryway of her new home and made her way up the stairs to her main living area. She had found this cheery white painted 3 story brick house with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a wonderful living area in the lower level of the house with built-in shelves that she was already planning on turning into her library and office. She had gotten the majority of her furniture and belongings moved into the home, and had even managed to store things in what she was already thinking of as their proper places, but it was the soft touches that made her house feel like a home that were still missing. But as she knew from her time in France, it was a process and it would come with new adventures and a strategic décor shopping trip or two with Ginny and Luna.

She stepped in to her kitchen and started a kettle to heating. As the water came to a boil, she placed an herbal tea bag in her favorite mug and leaned against the island in her kitchen. Her thoughts started to drift towards the party she had just left. The party was almost a whirlwind of an event for her. For most of the people there, it was the first time Hermione had seen them in nigh three years; not that they hadn't made it perfectly clear she would have been welcomed home for holidays and breaks, but Hermione's heart couldn't handle the thought of the scrutiny she might be under returning to London so soon. Ron, rightly or wrongly, remained Hermione's deepest shame. And she just didn't have to manage it as publicly when she remained in France. Oh certainly, she kept in touch by letter, regularly scheduled Floo calls, and had the occasional dinner with friends that came to Paris for work. But with each holiday and break from her studies, Hermione would find an excuse to avoid returning to her friends and the recognition she endured in London. The kettle whistled, and Hermione finished making her cup of tea and moved into the den.

Her upstairs den had a bay window overlooking the street, and the park that faced her row. She wandered over to it and settled in with a pillow at her back, and brought her knees and a throw pillow up to her chest. The first sip of tea was like a balm to her soul. The first sip of tea had the power to wash away all of her insecurities and troubles for just a brief moment and highlight what was important. And with that first sip, her mind drifted to Kingsley. The man had become a confidante and mentor to her over the years. In the two years she spent at the DRCMC, he had fielded her questions, asked insightful ones of his own, and provided her sounding board and a wealth of guidance when needed. He was one of the first to really encourage her to put a voice to the systems of her muggle heritage in a public manner.

Strangely enough, it was her meeting with Kingsley that she was most looking forward to on Monday. His advice had yet to steer her wrong, and when he suggested that she entertain Evelyn Roberts' offer, she was certainly intrigued. She had several questions for him as to why her offer was the only one he found worth endorsing, but she decide that her curiosity could wait until Monday morning. Amos had already sent her a letter asking her to consider bringing her new administrative experience to the DRCMC, listing the many magical beings groups she could improve the welfare of. While her experience under Amos, had been enriching and educational, she was not looking to return to the department where she worked when everything went down with Ron. There was something about her departure and the circumstances surrounding it that she felt tainted any return to her work there.

Hermione finished her tea and gazed out at the moon coming up over the park. It was time for her to get to bed. She had what promised to be an interesting day ahead of her, and a few big decisions in the near future. She stood and walked to the kitchen to put up her mug, and then made her way to her master suite on the third floor. It was time for rest.


	2. Chapter 2: Two Steps Forward

Chapter 2: Two Steps Forward

Sunday was a day of rest for Hermione and she used it to run to the market, begin painting and rearranging what would turn into her library and study, and then prepare a celebratory dinner for one in her new kitchen. While in Paris, Hermione had finally learned the art and joy of preparing food for herself and others. Though she was loathe to admit it to anyone, including herself, Ron's comment about her lack of cooking skills while on the run had found its place to lodge in her young, impressionable, and formative psyche. While she was determined to never measure her self-worth based on the assessment of a single man, she did have positive associations between being able to proudly care for and feed those around her during times of celebration or tragedy and she longed to realize those feelings herself. Her own mother was the neighborhood baker, constantly delivering cookies and sweets to those in her community, and it only took partaking of one of Molly Weasley's meals to understand just how satisfying the process of making lovingly and skillfully prepared food for family and friends could be.

She sat at her kitchen island, with a plate of Salmon Florentine and a fresh greens salad from her run to the market. She poured herself a glass of chardonnay and settled in to enjoy her meal. She had a new book from the muggle bookstore down the lane and was ready to lose herself in a world of art history, symbology, and one witty Harvard professor. But as she started to turn the pages of her new novel, she found her thoughts drifting towards her meeting tomorrow with Kingsley.

One of their running jokes through their years of correspondence centered around a mutual love for herbal tea; despite their British origins, there was something that personally affronted each of them about a good old-fashioned cup of Earl Grey or PG Tips. That he had offered her first proper cup of tea back on British soil was a sly nod to their mutual understanding of what made a good and proper cuppa and years of friendship.

Kingsley and Hermione were often of one mind, as their letters over the years would tell. While they both thoroughly enjoyed pushing the limits on opposing sides of an intellectual debate, their logic, thought processes, and personal interests intersected frequently and provided a symbiotic intellectual outlet for each of them. Kingsley was a lifelong student of Transfiguration and Charms, two of Hermione's favorite subjects, and he could match her intellect handily in both subjects. While Kingsley had started as an Auror at the Ministry, she was constantly reminded of his stint working for the Muggle Prime Minister during Harry's third year when he would occasionally reference more obscure aspects of Muggle culture in their conversations; there was a part of Hermione that loved how he shared those memories and references what seemed to be exclusively with her. There was a side of Hermione that felt uniquely seen and appreciated in their correspondence.

That being said, there was a part of her that was extremely nervous for her meeting with him in the morning. It would be the first time, outside of their brief encounter at her party, that they had met in person since she left the country. While Kingsley had traveled to France at least once a year while she was abroad, his schedule was so tightly run by the Ministry that they were never able to enjoy the typical nights out she indulged in with her other friends from the Isles. There was something completely alluring about the idea of having an evening dedicated to dinner, drinks, conversation, and a walk through her second favorite city with the man she considered to be a mentor; she was oddly wistful at the thought that she never got to have that experience.

Hermione realized that, at this point, she was pushing around the remnants of spinach, mushroom and cream sauce on her plate and had made no progress on her novel. Sighing, she stood and moved from her island to the sink, washed her dishes, and then took her novel and what was left of her wine to her bedroom suite. Her bedroom suite took up the entirety of the third floor, and it was this indulgence entirely that sold Hermione on the purchase of her town house. Her suite had been renovated by the previous owners to include a sitting area, room for a king-sized bed under the southern facing window looking into her back garden, and a walk-in closet and master bath that contained the most luxurious soaking tub with a mounted rainfall shower overhead. Hermione rarely splurged or dipped into her monetary award from the War and her Order of Merlin First Class, but between her initial investments in both the Wizarding and Muggle economies paying off handsomely and an unexpected inheritance from her maternal grandparents also invested, she was able to afford the house of her dreams.

As Hermione completed her evening routine, she contemplated her outfit for her Monday meetings. While she knew Kingsley and was comfortable around him in muggle and magical clothing alike, there was a deep-seated need to make a professional and personal statement with her clothing choices. After all, she had spent the last three years straddling the muggle and magical worlds in Paris and knew that large scale integration of the two worlds starts with small everyday intentional choices and normalizations. Finished washing her face and plaiting her hair, she moved to her walk-in wardrobe and began to consider her options. As she pulled a couple of her favorite looks to the chair in front of her mirror, Hermione pursed her lips and narrowly appraised her own looks.

Hermione knew that she wasn't someone considered naturally gorgeous by any means, but as she had grown into her looks, and more specifically the styling of her natural features, she realized that there was a structured elegance that she could easily create, project, and maintain. Her riotous curls had learned to be tamed over the years, and they were often woven into hairstyles that elongated the curve of her neck and provided contrast to her high cheekbones. She was pale, but the contrast with her darker hair, lashes, and brows made her look somewhat ethereal and she had leaned into it with minimal makeup application that was only designed to highlight her features, not mask her natural skin tone. She looked best in solid colors, highlighted by brief style moments featuring soft patterns. She preferred clean and simple looks that were classic in their pieces and styling.

She took a sip of wine and set it atop her dresser. She started to sort through the top jewelry drawer and began to pull pieces that would complement some of her clothing selections. Satisfied with her choices, she then moved to her shoe rack and began to pull pairs of heels and flats that would be fashionable yet comfortable for a day at the Ministry. She had a sneaking suspicion that her meeting with Evelyn would be more fruitful than she was even ready to imagine right now. She didn't want to get her hopes up too much, but she would be lying to herself if her mastery in Public Administration with a concentration in Muggle and Magical socio-legal systems hadn't been chosen with serious British wizarding law reform in mind. And for that, the DMLE was a natural path forward.

Hermione began to trial combinations of tops and bottoms, dresses and robes, skirts and suits in front of her mirror; after a long process of narrowing down her choices, she settled on a wine-colored set of fitted and short wizarding robes, with a soft blush vee-neck sleeveless silk blouse that was tucked into a high waisted black skirt. The blouse had delicate fabric flowers down the right side of the vee that were made from a delicately striped silk of the same color. Hermione figured that with a light blush, mascara, and soft pink eyeshadow and a pair of nude pumps, the look would be strikingly professional and balanced between wizarding and muggle fashions. For anyone that knew both, her Louboutins would make a definitive statement, as would her robes which were made of an incredibly soft acromantula silk that only one of the highest end Parisian wizarding fashion houses incorporated into their work wear collections. She selected a single pearl teardrop pendant on a gold chain and chose a pair of gold pendant earrings that were sleek and modern in their hooked teardrop styling and were pearled as well. Satisfied with her choices, Hermione hung her outfit and cast a brief garment steaming charm that she had learned very early on in her Parisian years.

As she exited her closet, she downed the last bit of her chardonnay and then went to bush her teeth and to turn down the covers of her king-sized bed. Her bed was another indulgence for her personal comfort. Her sheets and duvet were an omber white, grey, and lavender gradient and felt like silk on her skin. At the foot of her bed was a small, fluffy, grey cat bed that was graced by her familiar, Nyx. Crookshanks had passed when she lived in France, and it was one of the hardest parts of being away from home, grieving her familiar in an unfamiliar land. Not long after Crooks had passed, Hermione was visited daily by a little fuzzball of a black cat at her Parisian apartment building's entrance. The little thing was playful, curious, and clearly attached to her. At one point, Hermione even became convinced he knew her specific schedule and would time his appearances just to see her. After watching the poor thing be stalked by some unruly teenaged boys, she brought Nyx home – landlord be damned – and that was that.

And it was with thoughts of her sweet cat, that Hermione crawled into bed and drifted off to sleep.

\- - - - -

Kingsley didn't get nervous. Not outwardly anyways; his years as an Auror had trained him to adapt and overcome without betraying his internal "oh shite" meter. His subsequent foray into the shark-infested political waters of wizarding Britain in post-Voldemort world taught him that if there was ever a time and place for a poker face, it was here and now in his role as Minister. And yet here he was, trying to contain his nervous energy as he began to pace behind his desk. His meeting with Hermione was scheduled for 8:00am. He had woken around 4:00am with an unexplained burst of energy, and while he was usually an early riser it was entirely unusual for him to be ready to face the day well before dawn. After tossing and turning for a brief period of time, he decided to eventually rise from the bed, get dressed in his smartest set of ministry robes with his trademark purple accents, and then left for the office before the sun began to peek over the horizon.

Once he arrived at the office, he managed to channel his nervous energy into some long overdue paperwork. But with the rate at which he blew through his administrative tasks, he found himself with nearly an hour to spare. Kingsley was a ritualistic man, and he found peace in routine. Knowing that the service of tea was a ritual of comfort for him and he was about to serve Hermione here in his office, Kingsley began to gather his favorite tea cups, herbal blend, and his grandmother's charmed teapot. The teapot was his favorite inheritance from her – it featured in many of his memories with her growing up. The teapot was an elegant silver self-heating work of art that was classically tapered and finished with gently curved handles and spout that fit the regal aesthetic Kingsley attempted to project. It didn't hurt that it would come to temperature much faster than a stovetop kettle. It was perfect for his office at the Ministry in terms of beauty, form and function.

Kingsley selected his favorite herbal tea from a wooden box that housed his personal selection of tea bags. He opted for a mint and honey blend that was refreshing in the morning and that he hoped Hermione would appreciate as well. He moved his tea service set to the sitting area near his bookshelves, and began to prepare for Hermione's arrival. There were two leather armchairs facing each other across the ends of a mahogany coffee table and formed a U-shape seating area with a matching leather loveseat. He finished arranging the coffee table and then checked his watch. There were still 30 minutes before Hermione was due to arrive, so he grabbed his latest novel from the muggle bookstore not far from his residence. Muggle novels were an indulgence from his time as an operative with the Muggle Prime Minister. He started to immerse himself in a world of bizarre rituals, Leonardo DaVinci, and muggle religion.

He didn't even hear her approaching. "You'll have to tell me if that ends up being any good. I tried to start it the other evening, but got distracted," Hermione said with a soft smile. She was leaned against the doorway to his office, and he couldn't help but stare. She looked stunning – posh, classy, and naturally beautiful all rolled into one – and his brain stutter stepped as he tried to come up with a response other than, "Hermione…hi." He closed the book after dog-earring the page, and stood to greet her. "Welcome to the Ministry, come in."

She moved into his office with a slow and lithe stride that was mesmerizing to Kingsley, and gestured for him to sit next to her on the loveseat. He joined her and leaned forward to begin pouring their tea. Soon the scent of mint and honey began to permeate the air around him, and he smiled, nodding for her to pick up a cup. Raising his cup in her direction, "To new beginnings and good friends, I can't wait to see what you do next," Kingsley toasted.

"Well, I was hoping I could actually pick your brain to that extent," replied Hermione as she raised her cup in return and went to take her first sip. "But Merlin, Kingsley. First, I'm going to need you to tell me where you found this blend and how I can get some of my own. This is a proper cup of tea Kings," Hermione said with a hint of wonder. It wasn't just the first sip of tea that warmed his insides at that. The look on her face was worth every bit of nervous energy and effort he'd been through this morning.

"I had that conversation you recommended with Ms. Roberts," Hermione began. "Well, more specifically she and I arranged a meeting for later this morning. But I don't know that I want to walk into this meeting blind. I'd love your insight Kingsley. How well do you know Ms. Roberts?" Inquired Hermione. "Evelyn and I were peers in our youth; we attended Hogwarts together, but our families ran in similar circles growing up," replied Kingsley. "Evelyn and I have always been of similar minds when it came to the ways we wished to live our lives; neither of us bought into many of the pure-blood traditions we were raised around."

Kingsley took a sip of his tea and pondered what to tell Hermione next. "Evelyn and I were arranged to be married at one point, but neither of us were particularly inclined to follow the paths our families laid out for us. We have remained good friends, but I am not her particular cup of tea in the relationship department," mused Kingsley with a wry smile and a lift of his eyebrow. "However, Evelyn is the kind of boss that any highly motivated and justice seeking employee could only dream of. She has mastered the art of politics, yes, but she has yet to compromise her principles. She is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to righteously defending her belief in a better society and doing what his right – much like you, Hermione."

"Kingsley, I have to ask, why does she think I might be a good fit for her office? I've got at least one other offer that is certainly intriguing and in line with the work I was doing in France, but I don't know," she drifted off. "I've got some reservations about returning to the Ministry. Is it crazy for me to say that?"

"Hermione, no one has judged you for the decision to take leave from the Ministry. You did excellent work during your initial term, and there are a number of departments hoping that they might be able to poach you upon your return. While I'm sure the Heritage Foundation," Kingsley said with a knowing quirk of the corner of his lips, "might be particularly interested in your talents, but Hermione there is so much good you could do right here. There are things that I've been wanting to see change within the Ministry for years, and I think with you on board, in addition to some recent hires and relationships we have built with community partners, those changes might be realized."

Hermione watched closely as Kingsley took a deep breath, a sip of his tea, and then he continued. "Mione, I foresee a wizarding world in which the individual members of our society can seamlessly transition from our comforts and traditions to the modernized adaptations of the muggle world and back again," he passionately stated. "I envision a world in which our justice system is not dependent on birthright, but is diverse and reflective of the citizens in our society. And you, Hermione, you have worked with the Wizengamot, you have seen the challenges that our most progressive and most needed legislation faces, you have worked within the system to create changes that are enduring, and then not only that – but you also have studied Cooperative Magical Affairs as it relates to Public Administration! This moment, no, this movement needs you Hermione."

\- - - - -

Hermione had much to mull over as she left her morning meeting with Kingsley. Aside from their enlightening conversation about the DMLE, Evelyn, and his aspirations for British Wizarding Society, there was that pesky drop of her stomach and subsequent butterflies when she laid eyes on him in all of his Ministerial glory that at some point she was going to have to reckon with; Kingsley was a formidable man in his charcoal suit with subtle purple accents, and black Ministry robes. He cut an unexpectedly dashing figure in person that somehow her imagination never quite brought to life as vividly as her in person visit did. But for now, she needed to prepare for her meeting with Evelyn. She felt like she had a much better understanding of the direction in which her meeting the Head of the DMLE was going to go.

The first thing Hermione noticed as she approached Evelyn's office was just how communal the space was. Evelyn's area was easily distinguished apart from the rest, but the rest of the DMLE seemed to be far more team oriented and spatially integrated than any other Ministry office she had been in. There was a law library with pairs of windowed conference rooms on either side that could easily be combined or parted with magical dividers. There were community work tables, cozy seating areas, and then two hallways of individual offices running off each side of the community work area. Evelyn's office was centrally located, just to the right of the main entrance and directly across from the law library. The office was appointed in a mix of rich woods, warm and soft fabrics, and neutral tones. From her current vantage point, she saw Evelyn's door was open and the department secretary indicated Hermione was expected.

As she approached, Evelyn stood to greet her. "Ms. Granger, welcome to the DMLE. Please come in." Hermione noticed as she stood – Evelyn Roberts had style. She was tall, with brunette hair that was swept up on one side and secured in a sleek bun, and she wore navy silk robes that beautifully framed a baby blue and navy block shift dress that was cinched at her slender waist. Her heels were patent black Louboutins, and she accented the look with simple silver jewelry. Hermione felt like she was in the presence of a kindred spirit. "Have a seat Ms. Granger," Evelyn offered.

"Thank you for having me, Ms. Roberts. I've been looking forward to this opportunity all weekend," Hermione began. "I've heard many wonderful things about the DMLE under your leadership, and I have to admit I'm certainly intrigued by your request to meet. My tea with Kingsley this morning was enlightening, to say the least."

"To start Ms. Granger, I believe that this conversation necessitates a certain degree of frankness and trust if we are to speak honestly with one another. May I call you Hermione?" Evelyn began. With a nod from Hermione, she continued "Over the past 3 years, I have been Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. While one of my primary responsibilities is overseeing the Auror Corps, I also have significant oversight of the Wizengamot, prosecution of crimes before the Wizengamot, and adjacent criminal justice issues. Kingsley and I collaborated extensively on the Wingate Prison Reform when I was Deputy Head and we are looking to collaborate further on fundamental legal and justice reform."

Hermione considered Evelyn's words for a moment and then in a measured voice, responded. "I'm curious as to the form this work would take. Both you and Kingsley have hinted at the scale and scope, and I know the kind of work that I have undertaken as part of my mastery in Public Administration, so I could see how the two might dovetail. But I'm thinking that if I'm going to move forward in this position, then I need to hear exactly what you have in mind."

Evelyn appraised Hermione with something Hermione imagined to be akin to approval. "In the past 12 months, I have made several hires that I think will drive the direction of this department for years to come. They are bright young minds, and have niche skills that I believe will help realize the vision I have for the DMLE. Young Astoria Greengrass has come to the department with an affinity and skill for in-depth and out-of-the box thinking combined with formidable research skills. Her first year out of Hogwarts was spent in the Ministry Archives where she was a research liaison for departments dealing with blood, ward, and bonding magics. Blaise Zabini has recently come on board after making his prosecutorial debut in front of the Wizengamot and stirring the pot without the Wizengamot even realizing just how much he was shaking things up. His establishment of certain precedents into case law went unnoticed until the Wizengamot was forced to abide by their own decisions well after the fact. It was a work of art honestly, and he's come to spin his web for my pet project here in the DMLE. Blaise also brought his fiancée, Padma Patil who I believe you know from your time at Hogwarts. Padma is brilliant at drafting legislation and has been the detail oriented mind we need to get the foundations laid for what I hope will be our future work."

Hermione took a moment to process this. "Ms. Granger, our goal is to dismantle and restructure the Wizengamot. And I need your help."

\- - - - -

Hermione's brain was in overdrive at that statement. It was the idea she'd been circling around, that Kingsley had been circling around, that Evelyn had been circling around since her return. And now that idea had a voice. And sanity be damned, it was a powerful voice. The scope of what Evelyn and Kingsley envisioned was beyond anything Hermione could have hoped for in wizarding Britain. It would remake the foundations of their society. It would be a real chance at social equity, diversity of thought, reduced corruption, and it would serve as the final clearinghouse for every new piece of progressive legislation to come. Meaningful reform would have a real chance in their world if they could pull this off.

She started to pull the pieces together and create a mind map of the challenge ahead of them – Astoria was involved so that meant that they had been researching the inheritance aspect of Wizengamot seats and the old magics that were involved in the creation of the Wizengamot, Blaise had been working to establish certain legal precedents which she imagined restricted the Wizengamot's ability to rule on certain matters, and then Padma was getting ready to legislate their proposed changes. The potential intersections with her work establishing the first muggle-magical hybrid national social work program in the history of the French Ministry were unlimited. Evelyn and Kingsley had really thought of everything.

This was the career opportunity of a lifetime if Hermione's instincts were correct. And her instincts were almost always correct. And she was sure Evelyn could see the wheels turning as she sat there and considered her options. "Ms. Roberts, would it be okay if I call you Evelyn?" Hermione started. "Because if we're going to work together, I think we need to agree upon an open working relationship that does not stand on formalities or technicalities." Evelyn smiled at that. "You've explained the roles of everyone I would be working with, but I'd appreciate if you could more clearly define my own role within the department."

"You, Hermione, would essentially be the project manager of our little venture. You would be the one determining our legal strategy, creating the processes for implementing our reform, and managing the public relations and building of public trust in our platform. You have the deepest knowledge of muggle democratic structures and institutions, you built buy-in from key government and citizen stakeholders into the value of establishing cooperative departments that integrate and facilitate muggle and magical relations when you were abroad, and you have a firm belief in the social justice reforms we are long overdue enacting in British Wizarding Society," Evelyn explained. "Your experience writing and passing reform legislation in the DCRMC is invaluable, your public image is unimpeachable, and your strategy, research, and planning skills are renowned in our society," she continued. "Add to that, you have the backing of the Minister himself and references from the French Ministry that would necessitate you being given serious consideration in anything you propose out of the gate, it is easily reasoned that you are well-positioned to drive the changes we are hoping to achieve."

Hermione could feel herself becoming slightly slack-jawed at that. Evelyn's persistence and passion were overwhelming, and honestly – Hermione was a little off-kilter in the face of such a frank and complimentary assessment of her assets. However, she quickly pulled herself together, took a deep breath, and then asked, "When do I begin?"

\- - - - -

It was late afternoon when two different missives came across the Minister's desk. Both were neatly addressed and the handwriting of each was easily recognizable to Kingsley. A smile broke out across his face as he opted to open the inter-departmental memo first. Inside was the completed new-hire paperwork for one Hermione Granger, including title, salary, and benefits with Evelyn Robert's written request for his hiring approval. With a swish of his pen and a flick of his wand, the approval was granted and the memo was forwarded to the hiring department for filing. The second memo now held his attention. The only word on the outside of his note was "Kingsley," written in the precise and feminine script he had come to associate with the fluttering sensation of anticipation in his chest. He carefully opened the note, and was surprised to find just four words and a name in place of the long and flowing letters he had come to expect. _You know me well. – Hermione._

With a chuckle, he opened the left-hand drawer of his desk and gently placed the most recent letter on the top of so many that had come to him before. Hermione was well and truly home.


	3. Chapter 3: The Team

Chapter 3: The Team

Hermione's contract with the DMLE was set to begin the morning after her meetings with Kingsley and Evelyn. Officially, her title would be Director of Administrative and Public Affairs for the Wizengamot Task Force. Her salary was handsome and far more than she had ever dreamed of being offered straight out of her mastery. Her office was located in a pod with her new coworkers, which took Hermione by surprise. What she had assumed were individual offices were in-fact magically enlarged pods that housed different teams within the DMLE. Each pod contained 4 individual workspaces with glass barriers that could be magically warded for privacy, or vanished for collaboration. The workspaces were arranged with one desk in each corner of the room and an opening for each individual office that led to a common table in the middle of the pod. As a result, there were 3 nooks in the room between office walls that housed a tea and coffee station with an icebox for food storage, a rack for jacket and purse storage, and a single reading chair.

The department secretary, a friendly older lady with greying hair by the name of Millie Jones that reminded her of a more tactful and reserved Molly Weasley, showed Hermione to her office early that Tuesday morning. Whether it was due to nerves or excitement, Hermione planned on being early to the office and it appeared she had succeeded. Millie left her in the middle of the pod with a friendly smile and a soft "goodbye", and Hermione took in her new workspace. It appeared that her office was the first one on the left after entering the pod. A quick glance around the space told her that her office would directly face Astoria's in the opposite corner, and that Padma would be housed to her right, with Blaise directly across from Padma to Hermione's left. Hermione entered her office, set her coat and bag on the desk, and opened her camel leather purse. It was an upgrade from her purple beaded bag that she had carried during her year on the run, but had all of the same features and even some upgrades. From the depths of her leather purse, Hermione summoned a large box of books, a small case of office and writing supplies, the potted magical arrangement of houseplants that had been a mastery graduation gift from Neville for her new office, and two carefully wrapped picture frames she intended to display on her desk and on her wall respectively.

Charming her books to arrange themselves on the bookshelf on the left wall of her office, Hermione began to arrange her desk to her liking. Mr. Weasley's framed candid photo of her, Harry, and Ginny from her graduation party took residence on the right corner of her desk, and she mounted her mastery certificate from L'ecole Internationale des Affaires Magiques Cooperatives to one of the walls behind her desk. For the other wall behind her desk, she conjured a simple wooden shelf and fastened it to the wall, setting Neville's gift to rest on the new addition. Satisfied with her initial arrangement, she exited the office to go hang her coat and purse in the nook between her and Blaise's office. Once that small chore was taken care of, she made her way out of the office to the law library in the DMLE's common space. From the minute she had laid eyes on it, Hermione was giddy at the thought of learning what knowledge was contained within its walls. She had spent the past day considering her initial plan of attack for researching and establishing her Task Force strategy, and she figured if she could find a detailed manuscript on the history of the Wizengamot, its founding, and original structure it would be a good place to start. A brief reference of the library's index later, and Hermione quickly located three different books that appeared to be promising. Stopping only to log their removal from the library, Hermione returned to her pod eager to get started.

Once back in her office, she set her newly borrowed acquisitions on the common table and moved to the tea and coffee nook set in between Blaise and Astoria's office. After a brief review of the contents of the cabinet, she located a green tea blend with jasmine that sounded like a wonderful start to her day. She quickly prepared her cup, summoned her modified digital tablet (a remarkable acquisition from her time in France) and then settled in to begin perusing her first reference book entitled, British Laws and the Origin of Wizarding Justice in the Isles: A Chronological Narrative and Compendium. The book itself was massive but Hermione was interested a select few chapters which she took the time to note in a document on her tablet, along with a few questions she had related to each chapter she planned to review.

\- — - — -

He couldn't help but smile at the fact that it wasn't even the scheduled start to her workday and she already had her nose buried in a book. He'd only meant to make a quick drop-in and wish her well on her first day, but as he watched her, he considered just sending her a note and not distracting her from her work. With her tablet off to the side, a cup of tea in progress, and her nimble fingers running across the pages as she mumbled to herself, Kingsley had to laugh. This was Hermione Granger in all of her glory, in the midst of her element. And witnessing this sent unexpected but welcomed tendrils of warmth curling into the center of his chest. She looked every bit the part of working professional again today, as he noted how prim and proper she was dressed for her first day in a new office. Her hair was pulled back and pinned half up half down, her curls falling just above her shoulders and tickling her exposed collarbone when she leaned forward. She wore a boat necked cashmere sweater in a navy and white striped pattern. Her legs were crossed underneath the table, covered in a navy ankle pant that hugged her curves, and her feet rested in a pair of subtly dotted navy mesh ballet flats with a pointed-toe and structured bow. He smiled as he saw that one of her shoes dangled off her foot at the heel and bounced in time with her nervous energy and tapping. She fiddled with a silver chain at her neck and would occasionally twist the silver ring she wore on her right hand. Kingsley noted she had a navy set of long velvet robes resting on the back of her chair which would complete her outfit, and he was sure she'd be as stunning in them as the wine colored robes she had donned the day before. As engrossed as she seemed in her research and note-taking, Kingsley didn't have the heart to interrupt her and left as quietly as he had arrived.

\- - - - -

It was five minutes until eight o'clock when Hermione first heard voices outside of her pod. As they approached closer, she realized she recognized one belonging to Padma Patil, and a second belonging to a man whom she assumed to be Blaise Zabini based on Evelyn's revelation that the two were engaged to be married. Her assumption proved correct as the two entered the office, both of them pausing just inside of the entry way, their conversation fading as they stepped into the pod. Padma made a quick appraisal of Hermione and then stepped forward as Hermione stood from her seat at the table. Moments later, Hermione was the unexpecting recipient of a warm hug and a brief squeal of "Hermione!" in her right ear. Hermione returned the hug and then released Padma, stepping back to take a look at her old schoolmate and wave a gentle hello at Blaise, still in the doorway.

"Hermione, it is so good to see you again!" rattled off Padma in what appeared to be a mix of genuine excitement and nerves. "Blaise and I were thrilled to hear that you were joining our little task force. Evelyn brought us in to a meeting yesterday afternoon and announced your return to the Ministry. It'll be exciting to have such a fresh perspective on our work," she said with a beatific smile.

Blaise was far more reserved than his fiancée as he approached Hermione from the other side of the table. He extended his hand and Hermione reached out to shake it as he greeted her in his smooth voice, "Glad to have you on board Granger. I've heard interesting things about your work in France, and I'm sure you've got quite a few tricks up your sleeve to bring to your work here in the DMLE. If my suspicions are correct, you and I are going to have some fun in front of the Wizengamot." Blaise shot her a cheeky wink, and then excused himself to drop his belongings and grab some items from his office.

Hermione turned back to face Padma and sent her an excited smile. "Padma, I have a feeling I'm going to need you and Astoria to help catch me up and get me pointed in the right direction. I took myself to the law library this morning and found a few items I thought might serve as a good place to start, but I'm sure you and Astoria will be able to answer so many of my questions and help me create a focused reading list so we can get this work truly under way."

"I see you found the history and the compendium," said Padma with a quick glance down at Hermione's little workspace on the table. "That's a natural place to start, but I have a few books in my office that are a little bit more succinct and relevant to the work we do here on the task force. Let me set my belongings in my office and make a quick cuppa, and I'll join you," she said with a warm smile. As Padma turned to head to her office, she heard a bright young voice ring out as it crossed the threshold, "Good morning and I swear on all that is holy and Morgana's tits that I kept my promise – I am not late today!" The person that matched the voice was a young petite blond woman who came sliding into the entryway of the pod with a stack of books and papers in one arm, and a large black leather handbag with a silver clasp dangling off the elbow of her other, clutching a sleek silver travel mug in her remaining hand. She wore a black trench coat over a fitted set of short silver robes and a donned a simple white sleeveless silk blouse with a flattering scooped neckline, tucked into a ribbon-style black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. Her shoes were a black leather stiletto that had silver spiked studs covering the heel and the straps that wrapped around her ankle.

"You must be Astoria," said Hermione with an entertained smile as the young blonde confidently crossed the room to shake Hermione's hand. "It's so good to officially meet you," Hermione said happily. "I hear you have quite the background in blood, warding, and bonding magics. Those have always been challenging magics to master; I'm impressed that you've been so involved with them so early on in your career. I've always found those types of magics quite fascinating, and I can't wait to learn more from you." Astoria appraised her carefully at the compliment and then smiled proudly. _Hermione Granger was no slouch_ , thought Astoria. _Complimenting my brains and ambition in one fell swoop. Gotta give it to the girl, she knows how to make headway with a Slytherin_. Astoria excused herself to store her belongings and make a quick stop in her office, and moments later the four found themselves gathered around the work table, sipping their teas quietly.

Hermione figured she had been placed in Gryffindor for a reason, and decided to be the first one to break the ice. "I have to say, when Evelyn told me who she had in place to work on this project, I was quite impressed with your qualifications. Padma and I knew each other during Hogwarts, and Blaise and I crossed academic paths in Arithmancy and Potions, but I'm ashamed to say that I was not as familiar with your background Astoria. I have a feeling that there's a lot for me to learn from each of you about your work up until now." Hermione paused and considered how to continue. "I want to make one thing very clear from the start. You are the experts in your fields. While I have been brought on board in what appears to be a capacity designed to channel that expertise to help us achieve reform, I in no way see myself as superior to you. I have a role to play, much as you do, and I know for a fact that I cannot do my job effectively unless I collaborate well with each of you, and Evelyn. And being that I'm the newest of the bunch, I know I have a lot of catching up to do."

There was a collective look of relief among Padma, Blaise and Astoria at her proclamation, so Hermione decided to press the advantage of the goodwill she hoped she had just earned. "I'd like to set individual meetings with you all over the course of the next week so you can explain to me what I need to best understand about your individual expertise as related to this project. If you could also bring a list of recommended resources for me to better educate myself on your respective areas of expertise, I would be so grateful. However, outside of these individual meetings, I would really like to see if we can establish a copacetic community work environment. What we are about to undertake as a task force is going to require creative collaboration, out of the box thinking, and for each of us to be familiar not only with our individual portions of the work, but our peers work as well."

She saw several nods of agreement in response, so she decided to end there and see who would be the next to speak. It was Blaise that first replied, "I have court today, but could pull the relevant case files and meet with you tomorrow afternoon, if that suits you?" Hermione shot him a grateful smile and said, "That would be lovely Blaise. Two o'clock Wednesday? I'll add it to the task force scheduler." "I'll be there," said Blaise, "but if you'll excuse me I have a deposition and a preliminary hearing today that I need to attend to," as he stood to leave. "Good luck with your meetings, Blaise," Hermione replied. Blaise leaned down towards Padma, and placed a brief kiss on her lips and then turned to leave.

"Hermione, I think it might be best if you meet with me next, before you meet with Padma," suggested Astoria, bringing the attention of the remaining women back to the subject at hand. "Blaise and I have been handling most of the research and establishment of precedent that will lay the foundation for what we are about to do, so I think it might be easiest if we talked the basics of the law and magic we will be up against, before you go over our current legislative drafts and priorities with Padma." Padma nodded at Astoria's words, and Hermione found herself agreeing with Astoria's astute suggestion. "Does Thursday morning work for our meeting?" Hermione asked Astoria. "Of course. I have an early meeting in the Ministry Archives that day, but if you wanted to meet me down there around ten o'clock I have a few things that I'd like to show you before returning to our offices," she said, and then stood to excuse herself. "I'm sorry to run, but I have a conference meeting with a research team from the Department of International Magical Cooperation that I need to prepare for. I'll be in my office for about an hour if you need me, but I'm afraid I have work to do. Welcome to the team, Hermione."

Moments later, it was just Padma and Hermione remaining. Padma gave Hermione a warm and welcoming smile, and Hermione could feel what remained of her nerves dissipate. "Padma, I have to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect today, and didn't realize just how nervous I have been all morning," Hermione said with a laughing exhale. "But you all have been so nice and professional and I don't know why I even considered for a minute it would be any different."

Padma smiled and said "I honestly think anyone coming into your position would be nervous. But you have nothing to worry about, truly. We're all excited to get to work with you on this project. Your impact in France was followed more widely than I think you even realize, and l have a feeling you're going to be just what we need to get these changes through." Hermione flashed her a grateful smile, and then asked, "So does a Friday meeting work for you, Padma? I have a feeling that I'm going inundated with Blaise and Astoria's information, so I'm hoping you might be willing to help me make sense of it all come Friday. So much of your work is about synthesis…"

"Sounds good, Hermione. Let's aim for Friday around three o'clock, and if we finish early, we can try to get celebratory drinks in the Alley," Padma suggested with a conspiratorial smile. "In fact, there's a great place a group of us like to grab lunch. How about you join us today for a welcome back lunch? I know Harry was planning on being there, so there will be at least one familiar face for you," she said kindly. "Padma, I would love to. What time should I be ready? I have a meeting with Evelyn around eleven, but I could meet you near the law library around noon?" Hermione said with a hint of anticipation. "I'll see you then," said Padma as she stood to head to her office. "Welcome back, Hermione."

\- — - — -

Hermione and Evelyn were wrapping up their meeting, when there was a sharp rap at Evelyn's office door. A brief flash of annoyance, crossed Evelyn's face and she leaned towards Hermione and whispered, "Prepare yourself," before getting up to answer the door. From the angle at which Hermione was seated she couldn't see who was on the other side of the door as Evelyn opened it, but she could hear the distinctly sharpened tone of Evelyn's voice as she said, "Phineas, I am currently unavailable to give you audience, as I am in a meeting." It was a wheezy and pompous voice that responded, "I'm aware of who you are meeting with Evelyn, and it is why I am here. I think it prudent that someone you hired to the be face of the Wizengamot Task Force should in fact have the opportunity to meet the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I would have found it far more agreeable if you had arranged for a meeting prior to your hiring of Ms. Granger, as it is a courtesy that is due the position, but here we are." With a short sigh, Evelyn ground out, "With all due respect, but Ms. Granger reports to me and me alone; as Head of the DMLE, hiring decisions are at the discretion of myself and the Minister, Phineas. Need I remind you…"

"And need I remind you that we are peers and there is a certain level of respect due to me, Evelyn," blustered the man on the other side of the doorway. "Now, I possess the knowledge that you are currently meeting with Ms. Granger. As such, it seems an opportune moment for me to inform her of her role here. Let me in, Evelyn. It doesn't do to have the entire department witnessing our little…discussion." Hermione kept her gaze fixed on the wall behind Evelyn's desk, as she heard the door give way, and a second set of footsteps approach. Evelyn rounded her desk and sat in her chair once more. Hermione heard a distinctly male voice clearing his throat over her right shoulder, and she braced herself to stand and face the individual she surmised was waiting for her attention.

He was an impetuous little man, Hermione quickly realized. And goodness, did he remind her of Cornelius Fudge in stature and what, she also presumed, Napoleon complex. She extended her hand, "Hermione Granger, sir. And you are…?" The scowl that crossed his face was fleeting, but it was enough to give away his true feelings about her dismissive greeting. This was a man that wanted to be recognized above all else, she realized. He was a man who was used to being unchallenged, a man who thrived on being catered to by those around him. "Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Phineas Bullard of Houses Bullard, McClaren and Graves," he announced as she shook Hermione's hand with a bland smile. His hand was like a limp fish in her grasp, and she quickly let go of his hand to re-take her seat.

Rather than sit beside her, the Chief Warlock began to pace behind the second chair facing Evelyn's desk, and he spoke. "It's come to my attention that you have recently returned to the Ministry, from a mastery in France, Ms. Granger. What was it that you studied when you were abroad?" Phineas asked with a simpering smile in an attempt to feign ignorance. "Cooperative Magical Affairs, sir. With a mastery in Public Administration and a thesis focusing on short and long term integration methods and processes for the magical youth of our society, as well as tertiary social groups that have historically needed integration support," Hermione said in a crisp and overly polite tone.

"And what expertise does a mastery in such a specialized course of study allow you to bring to the singular subject of the Wizengamot? By your own admission thus far, your experience does not seem to involve much legal work," Phineas said with a faked smile. _So this is the game he wishes to play_ , Hermione surmised. _He's here to begin the process of undermining my credentials, and use my own words as part of his public disinformation campaign. Alright, let's play_. "Well, sir, the technical and legal expertise required to facilitate my thesis project was both deep and broad in its scope. I was involved in the creation of every bureaucratic pathway we established, including drafting legislation to give legal weight and enforcement capabilities to our ideas, brokering negotiations between the different parties and departments involved, and conceptualizing workflows for the systems we created," Hermione explained. "I wouldn't expect you to be familiar with the intricacies of our work, as much of it involved legislation, practices, and systems that existed in the muggle world that we then adapted and integrated into the French Ministry's legal system. Our work was certainly revolutionary, as well as complex," she said, allowing just a hint of masked condescension to seep into her voice. "So frankly, I am confident that my abilities and skills will be highly suited to the work of the task force that Ms. Roberts has outlined for me." She paused and observed the Chief Warlock as he stopped pacing and turned to her once more. "Did you have any further concerns or reassurances you require, as to my professional ability and knowledge, or was that all, sir?" Hermione finished with an impish smile.

Hermione looked back towards Evelyn and could see the wheels turning behind her eyes; if Hermione were a betting woman, she would hazard a guess that the energy Evelyn was working so hard to suppress in front of the Chief Warlock was a burst of pride. It was at that moment that Evelyn chose to calmly chime in, "If that was all, Phineas, I'd appreciate if you could make sure there are no meetings on the Department Head scheduler before making an appearance in my office in the future. Ms. Granger and I have some final timelines to determine for her first few weeks of work here, and both of us have other appointments to attend to shortly. You may go," she said with a dismissive smile. Phineas stared owlishly between the Evelyn and Hermione, his face becoming redder and redder the longer he stood there. Then with a sharp nod of his head, and a sudden about face, Phineas took his leave with an aggrieved "Good day," on his way out the door.

Evelyn stood once more to close and ward her door, and as she turned to face Hermione, a wide smile broke across her face. "Well done, Hermione," Evelyn purred. "I believe that tête-à-tête was an excellent start to our working relationship with one Chief Warlock Phineas Bullard. If nothing else, I am absolutely and positively convinced you are the right woman for this job," she said with a pleased look on her face. Hermione raised a single eyebrow at Evelyn in response, "He's something isn't he? You would think that if he were going to mark me with a target on my back, he might have done a bit more opposition research first wouldn't he? It didn't take me but five minutes to realize he's a tiny man, with a large ego, and an ever narrowing circle of people in his orbit who will give him what he wants, and I have no problem being the person that crushes him publicly." Evelyn's laughter was rich, hearty, and clear in response to Hermione's summation of the Chief Warlock's character and her own opposing stance. "Well, my dear, I think you will certainly earn that opportunity. Now, let's meet again next Friday, a week after you've met with Padma to have our first strategy meeting. That should give you a week to work through your teammate's presentations and begin the process of collaboration on our initial needs and priorities. Does that sound acceptable to you?" Evelyn posed. "Indeed," Hermione agreed. "I'll send a memo mid-week with an update and agenda for our meeting. Thank you for your time this morning, Evelyn. This was…enlightening," Hermione said with wry smile as she stood to exit her boss' office. "Enjoy your lunch, Hermione and we'll be in touch," Evelyn said, and with a wave of her wand she charmed the door to close softly behind Hermione as she left.

\- — - — -

Padma threaded her arm through Hermione's as the moved through the Diagon Alley crowds to a café called The Phoenix Rising. It was run by her former schoolmate, Hannah Abbot, and Padma reported it was a popular lunch spot for Ministry workers looking for something outside of the old boys club that dominated the Ministry Cafeteria. The name was apparently a play on the current Minister's familiar and the fact that Hannah made some of the best breads and sweets in the Alley. Her shop had started as a coffeehouse and bakery, and was so popular among harried Ministry commuters that she quickly expanded to include a café lunch menu that was a regular favorite of the younger Ministry crowd.

Padma deftly navigated Hermione and herself through the lunch crowd to an area where 4 different smaller tables had been mashed together, and seated around them were quite a few familiar faces. As Hermione approached, Harry stood to greet her. He leaned in, giving her a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, and then turned them to face the rest of the table. Harry indicated for Hermione to take a seat to his right; seated to his left was his girlfriend and Astoria's older sister, Daphne Greengrass. Next to Daphne, was Luna Lovegood whose serene smile and blond hair were a welcome sight. Sitting to Luna's left, was a man Hermione recognized as a matured Theodore Nott. He had one hand resting lightly on Luna's knee and flashed Hermione a welcoming smile. Draco Malfoy, in all of his aristocratic, pale, blonde glory, was seated next to Theo, directly across from Harry, and gave her a friendly nod. Padma took the seat to the right of Hermione, leaving an empty chair between her and Draco.

"Blaise said he would try to join us, but it would depend on how long his deposition ran," Padma said to the group as she doffed her jacket and settled into her chair. Daphne spoke up at that, "Yeah, his witness is attempting to play hardball, and Blaise mentioned that there was a lot of evading a certain line of questioning that he was attempting to get a handle on. Apparently the bloke has employed McDonough & Associates as his defense attorney and they're playing the cards close and crafty." With a shrug of her shoulders, she continued, "Also, Hermione – Astoria told me she wished she could be here, but her conference meeting went long and they elected to cater lunch so they could keep working. But she's usually a regular with us, and we hope you will be too," Daphne finished with a kind smile. At her words, Harry draped his arm across the back of Daphne's chair and turned to look at his best friend. "Yes, well. Welcome, Hermione, to your first meeting of the minds who like to lunch," he said with a cheeky grin. "I have a feeling you'll fit right in."

"I certainly hope so, but I cant help but feel a little out of the loop already. I know all of you, but didn't realize that you were such a close knit group. Tell me more, and catch me up. It really is good to see the lot of you," Hermione said in curious but pleased voice.

There were many voices that chimed in all at once, and after a brief pause that dissolved in laughter, the group managed to convey to Hermione the basics of how they came to be as they took turns ordering and eating. From what she gathered, each of them had a role in the Ministry that in the past three years had been asked to collaborate specifically with other members of their little lunch group. It seemed to Hermione that these connections were specifically made at the behest of Kingsley to advance making certain progressive agendas and pet projects a reality. Daphne and Harry worked closely together in the DMLE with Harry being an Auror and Daphne being a lead prosecutor for many of the cases Harry brought to criminal trial. Eventually, their professional relationship crossed into the personal and they were now considered the power couple of the DMLE. Luna also seemed to frequently work with both Harry and Theo as the Lead Ministry Media Liaison. One of Kingsley's earliest projects had tasked her with repairing and revolutionizing the relationship between the Prophet and the Ministry, standardizing communication channels and neutralizing the toxic control the Ministry had over the Prophet's messaging. In giving the Prophet renewed freedom and a way of obtaining credible sources with ease, the Prophet's reporting became increasingly impartial in return. Luna was present for all of the major press conferences, including several following arrests made by Harry, trial outcomes won by Daphne, and international policy collaborations that fell under Theo's office in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Draco was the only one present that was not directly a Ministry employee, given that he worked for Gringotts. However, Draco had taken on an unofficial role as an economic adviser to the Minister in regards to policy making and its effects on both wizarding and muggle markets. Draco had become a valued link between the two worlds, and his insight into wizarding and muggle customs and monetary systems was something that Kingsley treasured.

A lot had changed since Hermione had left London three years ago, she realized. While she'd been previously aware of certain events and relationships, there was so much that she just had no clue about. Draco for example – while Hermione had been aware of his acquittal and redemption following the War, and knew that he shared a tentative but burgeoning alliance with Harry after his trial, she was unaware that he had become so educated on not only wizarding financial markets, but muggle as well. And while Hermione was well aware of the romantic incompatibility between Ginny and Harry, she didn't fully appreciate just how suited Harry was to his new partner, and apparently Draco was to Ginny. _Red had been holding out on her_ , Hermione thought to herself. She knew from their Floo calls and letters that Ginny had been seeing someone for about a year, but due to their schedules wasn't considering it to be super serious or worth mentioning. One lunch with Draco, however, and Hermione realized that the man adored Ginny.

It was her thoughts of Ginny that must have invited the witch to materialize from the crowd, and plop herself into the empty chair between Padma and Draco. "Hello loves," she called out to the table as she leaned in to give Draco a kiss on the cheek. "Ginny!" Padma exclaimed. "We didn't think we'd be seeing you until the last week of the month!" "Ah yes, well the Appleby Arrows have had an unfortunate outbreak of dragon pox, and so the Harpies leadership decided to postpone next week's match and see if there are any additional outbreaks before sending us back out to the pitch. I've already had it, so no concerns for me, but two of our chasers and one of our beaters are at risk, so we were given the week off. I just Floo'd home this morning. Surprise!" she said with a grin. Draco, more than anyone else at the table, seemed thrilled at the news and shot Ginny a heated look which she returned quite blatantly.

"Speaking of surprises, Hermione. Mum asked me to invite you to this Friday's family dinner at the Burrow. She wanted me to remind you that it's a standing invitation, so even if this week doesn't work, she hopes you'll be there for the next," Ginny recited as she turned toward Hermione. "Let me check my schedule later in the week, but I think that should work. I'll send your mum an owl by Friday morning letting her know one way or the other," answered Hermione.

"Wonderful. Well, I just dropped in to say hello and grab a bite to go. I'm meeting Katie and Angelina to go shopping for a summer wardrobe this afternoon, and if I stay much longer, I'm going to be late," Ginny said as she checked her watch. She stood, dropped a kiss goodbye on Draco's lips that lingered a half second longer than she seemed to think it would, and blushed furiously as she left the group with a soft, "goodbye".

Harry and Daphne began to gather their trays, and went to stand as well. "We ought to be off back to the Ministry too. Deputy Head Auror Hargrove has scheduled us for a meeting this afternoon about the Morven case, and I've got to grab some files before we go," said Harry. With a wave goodbye, they took off towards the Ministry, and Hermione took her cue from the rest of the group as they too began packing up the remainders of their lunches. After a cordial goodbye to Theo and Draco, and a heartwarming hug and "Welcome home," from Luna, Padma and Hermione began to make their way back to the DMLE offices.

\- — - — -

Light was fading from the evening sky, and Hermione found herself still at her desk in the Task Force's pod; however, she wasn't there because she was inundated with work for her new role, just yet. No, she was still seated in her desk chair because she had a very important letter to finish. Writing was a way for Hermione to digest her thoughts and create order and connection, oftentimes between and among seemingly unrelated details. She figured there was no better way to make sense of her first day than putting everything in longhand form to her Kingsley, and hoping that in doing so she could make him realize she wished to continue their tradition, as well as thank him for everything that he had done to help her get here.

Finishing her letter, she wrote, " _I have to say, Kingsley, that I think I might have finally found it. I think I might have finally found my purpose. I don't know that I have ever been brave enough or bold enough to envision such a path for myself, but with your help – with your knowledge of who I am, who I want to be, and the things I care about most – I can finally see it. These last few days have only made me more in awe of the vision and skill you bring to your role as Minister. You amaze me, Kings. And some how your belief in me allows me to think I have the capacity to be just as awe-inspiring as you too. You make me a better person, and I hope that I make you proud._

_I'll be seeing you around. Tea again soon?_

_With affection,_

_Hermione"_

\- — - — -

Night had fallen over London, and Kingsley was seated in his study at home when he heard a tap on the window that could only belong to an owl. Walking to the window, he smiled when he recognized the bird at his sill. The tawny colored bird was regal, yet affectionate, much like her owner. Kingsley took the missive from its leg, gave the owl a gentle rub of it's feathers, and fed her the cricket treat she loved so much. As the bird took off into the night sky once more, Kingsley opened the letter and began to read.

As he came to the last few lines, his chest warmed with each word read and a smile broke out across his face. " _With affection, Hermione,_ " rang in his ears as he walked to his desk and opened the top left-hand drawer. The letter at the top of the stack was signed with the same precise and feminine script as the letter he held in his hand, the only difference being that where the last had been signed, " _Best, Hermione,_ " and the newest addition gave him a far more hopeful feeling and an unexpected spring to his step.

He set the letter inside, closed the drawer, turned off the lamp, and exited his study to take himself to bed. And as he drifted off to sleep, the Minister's thoughts were not filled with the usual policy preponderance and list of to-dos, but instead of a beguiling brunette who he couldn't wait to see over tea again, that he just hadn't realized how much he had truly missed.


	4. Chapter 4: The Return

Chapter 4: The Return

Hermione’s week flew by in a flurry of research, activity, and meetings. Her review of relevant case files with Blaise was enlightening, Astoria’s depth of knowledge and current research tactics were impressive, and Padma’s crafty wording of current legislation relating to their endeavor was entirely brilliant. She had spent many late nights poring over their collective suggested readings, and while she was certain there was much more for her to learn and nuances for her to more firmly grasp, she felt that she was off to a good start. It didn’t hurt that each evening as she worked, she would exchange notes with Kingsley about her readings and ideas; he was a useful sounding board, a similarly intuitive scholar, and provided Hermione with an additional wealth of information

And it was with a satisfied and jubilant feeling that she found herself leaving the office at four o’clock on Friday afternoon, in the company of Padma and Astoria, heading to the local Alley watering hole for Ministry employees. The Come-and-Go Room was a trendy little bar and club run by Hermione’s classmate, Seamus Finnegan; Seamus had a knack for the theatrics and festive atmosphere that his bar was known for. Basing his bar on the concept of the Room of Requirement, each booth was enclosed into its own little pod and the magic of the pod would determine the drink menu each patron received, and would adjust its ambience to the mood of the patrons as well, individually adjusting lighting and background music to the desires of those within. The second floor of the bar housed a dance floor that Seamus opened up most Fridays and Saturdays after dark and was rumored to be the most exclusive clubbing experience in Wizarding Britain. Padma, Astoria, and Hermione gave a wave to Seamus behind the bar, as they entered and searched out an unoccupied pod to take their seats.

As Padma and Astoria chattered happily with one another, Hermione took the opportunity to observe her environment. The Come-and-Go Room had made its debut in the Alley about a year after she had left for France, and she could easily see why it had become so successful so quickly. As she let her gaze drift across the room, she saw a pod of young male ministry workers sitting in what appeared to be a booth themed like an Irish pub. There were Quidditch banners donning the back wall, pints of beer littered the table, and the most recent quidditch scores were posted as well. The next group over was ensconced in a pod that Hermione might have described as straight out of an aristocratic social club. Several older ministry workers were enjoying whiskey, old fashioned cocktails, and cigars in a wood paneled booth with navy velour bench cushions, and a stack of daily newspapers and financial journals that she saw at least one gentleman flipping through leisurely. Hermione’s attention was brought back to her own table as she heard Astoria ask her, “Any idea what’s got your fancy tonight?” She waved a hand in the direction of Hermione’s menu, and Hermione blushed at being caught out with her mind wandering.

The menu was a sleek black single panel with pearly parchment in its center where scripted words formed in front of Hermione’s eyes. As she started to read through the menu options, Hermione was thrilled to see some of her favorite wines and cocktails listed. Frankly, if Hermione was stocking her home bar for a girls night in, she’d be making most of what appeared on the menu! The menu blended her muggle and magical alcohol tastes in a seamless fashion. “This is brilliant magic,” breathed Hermione to her two companions. “Merlin, Seamus has absolutely outdone himself with this,” she said in awe. “I think I’m going to start with a blood orange G&T. The gin he’s listed is one I’ve been dying to try. They make it right here in the Isles and I’ve heard it’s lovely,” Hermione decided.

“Dean and I took a trip up there last fall!” Astoria chimed in, and it took Hermione a moment to place that she did in fact know from Harry, via Daphne, that Astoria was dating her fellow Gryffindor, Dean Thomas. “Isle of Harris was such a beautiful little place. It made for a very nice little romantic getaway,” Astoria continued with a smirk. “Well, I think I’m going to go for my standard cosmopolitan,” Padma announced. “It’ll be a vodka soda with lime, for me,” Astoria announced as well. Shortly after they had made their decisions, the menus cleared themselves from the table. Hermione noticed that there was an upbeat and flirty jazz song playing in the background around their table, and the lights had dimmed only slightly, but gave off a reddish glow. _This happy hour is lovely_ , Hermione thought to herself, and then returned her attention to her two new friends.

“Blaise and I want to make a trip up that way this summer,” Padma said in response to Astoria. “We made a trip to his mother’s villa in Tuscany last fall and it was absolutely divine. That man knows a sinful amount about muggle and magical wine both, and I fully took advantage of his knowledge. There’s something incredibly magical about spending a wine-drunk week in the sun with the love of your live,” she said with a sigh. “Did you have any weekends away like that when you were living in Paris, Hermione?” Astoria asked with a sly smile. “I hear the South of France makes for a wonderful Mediterranean, lovers getaway.”

Hermione blushed as she noticed their drinks floating over to their table on a black tray. Taking a moment to deflect, Hermione grabbed the drinks and passed them to her friends. While her time in Paris was not exactly celibate, she didn’t exactly do any long-term dating either. “I may have enjoyed a walk or two under the Parisian stars with a French lover as we wandered home drunk on French wine and the heady rush of being young and in the City of Love, but it never typically went much further than that,” she replied, her blush further staining her cheeks. “Was there no one that you met that was worth further consideration than a casual date or two?” Astoria asked wide-eyed. “Blimey, I don’t know if I could have had that much self-control if I were living alone in Paris,” she continued. “Every time Dean and I go there, I fall in love with the romance of the city.”

“But to be fair, Astoria, every time you and Dean travel to Paris you find yourselves secreted away in some romantic hotel suite, attending avant-garde art shows at which Dean is the honored guest in some fancy and romantic Parisian gallery, and then you snooker yourselves away in some charming Parisian café drinking French wine, and sometimes each other, until last call,” Padma retorted with a knowing smile. “So it’s not a hard sell that your Parisian experiences are worth falling in love with, every single time. I imagine it might be a slightly different situation when it’s your daily life you’re living in the city,” she said with pointed tone. Hermione gave her a grateful smile, “You know, there is something romantic about the city even when you’re living there and working there, but it’s not the same. I honestly missed London while I was abroad. There’s something about this city – the hustle and the people and the history – that has always had my heart. If I was going to find love, it wasn’t going to be in Paris,” Hermione said wistfully.

“Well if it wasn’t in Paris that you thought you’d find love, was it here in London?” Astoria asked. And for some reason, when Astoria voiced that thought aloud, Hermione knew yes, it was. And even more strangely, a warm baritone voice with dark skin and an inherent kindness and steadfastness came to mind at that thought. _Merlin_ , she blushed. _My answer to her question is Kingsley. Where the bloody hell did that come from?_ She marveled to herself. She looked back up at her companions and she knew that her moment of contemplation, realization, and subsequent blush had not gone unnoticed. “Ah, so there is someone here in London,” Astoria said in a teasing voice. “Astoria, that’s the third time tonight you’ve made poor Hermione blush!” Cried Padma. “Cut the poor girl some slack…we want her to stay in London, not run back to Paris at the first chance,” she said laughingly.

Hermione giggled at that. “No such worries about me heading back to France anytime soon. I’m home. I promise. Besides, as much as I enjoyed my colleagues and friends in Paris, I don’t know if I can give up these weekly lunches and girl nights now that I’ve had a taste,” she said with a genuine smile. “So ladies, catch me up on the ins and outs of the DMLE. I haven’t left the pod much this week, and I still haven’t quite got the lay of the land,” started Hermione. And with a deft change of topic, Astoria and Padma were more than happy to spill all of the office tea. An hour passed rather quickly, and it was with a buzz of her wand and a quick check of her watch that she realized if she didn’t leave happy hour shortly, she was going to be rather late for her dinner invite to the Burrow.

“Ladies, I am so sorry to dash, but I have a dinner invite to get to and I really must go.” Hermione passed some galleons from her leather handbag to Astoria, and said, “Drinks are on me this round. Thank you girls so much for making this first week easy, interesting, and fun.” With a grateful squeeze of each of their shoulders in a one armed hug as she stood, Hermione took her leave to a chorus of “Goodbye,” and “See you Monday!”

A brief walk to the apparition point in Diagon Alley cleared her head, and with thoughts of the Weasley’s home, Hermione turned on her heel with a soft pop. She quietly landed in the Burrow’s garden. She had returned.

\- - - - -

Kingsley Shacklebolt was no fool. Kingsley knew that one didn’t just turn down a celebratory invite from Molly Weasley to join her and her clan at the Burrow, especially when it was either Harry or Hermione that were being celebrated. Molly took any excuse of celebrating either of them to bring out the remaining Order members, her extended family, and make them feel as treasured as humanly possible. With Harry being an orphan, and Hermione having become estranged from her parents after she returned their memories, Molly had taken her surrogacy to a whole new level in the post-War era. So when his secretary had popped her head into his office Thursday afternoon and advised him that his presence was expected, not requested, at Friday’s dinner, he responded by telling Eleanor to rearrange his schedule and make sure he would make an on time arrival to the Weasley’s home.

Which is how Kingsley found himself enjoying a Firewhiskey and cigar with Arthur, Bill, and Harry on the back porch of the Burrow on this warm Friday evening as they waited for the guest of honor to arrive. The pleasant burn of Firewhiskey worked its way into his chest, and it was one of the first times in recent memory where Kingsley felt like he might actually be able to relax and enjoy himself – not himself as Minister, but as Kingsley among good friends without the public façade. He didn’t feel the pressure to constantly be on when he was at the Burrow with people who knew him before he was the public face of the Ministry. He could feel the tension leaving his face, his posture, and his chest as he stood there lazily tracking the other three men’s conversation.

A small pop from the west corner of the garden brought Kingsley out his daze. He watched the petite witch land gracefully, set her blouse and purse to rights, and then slowly make her way over to where their little group stood. He watched her closely as she approached, and he realized that no longer was it just the Firewhiskey making his chest feel warm and happy; seeing Hermione had just become the highlight of his day. She was dressed as classically as ever, wearing a lavender short sleeve blouse with a silver front quarter zip closure that was casually pulled down just enough to hint at the top of her cleavage. It was tucked into a grey pencil skirt, a style which she favored. She was wearing a set of nude heels that made her legs look like they continued for miles in spite of her short stature. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and had been straightened into a sleek ponytail. Her silver necklace accented the modern and professional look, and he noticed she still wore the silver ring that she had mindlessly twirled around her finger her first day back at the Ministry. She was gorgeous, in an elegant and unaffected way, he realized. And the fact that her mind was just as brilliant as her natural outer beauty hit him like a one-two punch smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was infatuated. He was infatuated with Hermione Granger. Somewhere along the way from acquaintance, to fellow warrior, to mentorship, to friends, Kingsley had developed feelings for the witch that were now flirting with the dangerous territory that lay beyond friendship. Her renewed physical presence in his life had only highlighted just how appealing he found her. Gentle affection was possible when their friendship played out across the pages of the written word, but that affection had an entirely more potent effect when he was faced with the reality of the woman who was now standing in front of him.

“Boys,” Hermione greeted with a cheeky smile. “You know Molly and Fleur will throw a fit if they smell even a hint of smoke on you at dinner.” Arthur was the only one out of the group to look even close to properly chastised. Bill and Harry just rolled their eyes, as Bill chimed in, “That’s what freshening charms are for. I mastered those before I left Hogwarts, Hermione. Besides, we all know I’m mum’s favorite. She let the hair and the earring go for years without real consequence; a little smoke is the least of her worries.” “Oh, Bill. It’s not so much Molly I’d fear on your behalf, it’s your wife,” Hermione shot back as she lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “I know how creative the French are, I spent three years among them,” she said with a wink. Arthur and Bill stoically stubbed out their cigars at that thought, and turned to face one another. With resigned nods, they cast a freshening charm on one another before excusing themselves inside. Harry chuckled good-naturedly and followed suit, dropping a friendly kiss on Hermione’s cheek as he followed Bill and Arthur inside, casting a wandless freshening charm as he went.

Kingsley chuckled as his compatriots fled at the thought of the women in their lives, and then realized he was the only man still standing. The only man still standing with Hermione. The witch in question came over and settled next to him, resting with her back to the porch railing, mirroring his own stance. And before he even knew what happened, her nimble fingers plucked the remaining cigar from his own hand and brought it to her mouth, taking a well-practiced inhale, then exhaling the smoke in perfectly formed little rings.

She shot a mischievous smirk at Kingsley as he took in the scene before him with a genuine look of surprise on his face. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?” She said with a giggle. “You know, I am rarely surprised by many things, but I can say with certainty tonight Hermione; no, I was not expecting that,” he replied slowly, with a sense of wonder. Kingsley turned, angling his body towards her, and before Hermione knew what was about to happen, he stole back his cigar and copied her moves, smoke rings and all. Hermione’s fingers burned pleasantly where his hand had touched hers. “So, the Minister has his own tricks,” she said conspiratorially. “You know, my dad used to smoke cigars on nights like this when he would get together with his friends. They’d sit on the back garden patio because my mother couldn’t stand the smell in her house. But she would always kiss him at the end of the night, after a night of cigars and whiskey and all that, because she always said you should let the ones you love know how you feel about them when you’re with them. And on those nights, he would come into my room to kiss me goodnight smelling like cigars, and often quietly humming a tune; and I just remember this sense of love for him, love for my dad, just as he was. I never quite minded the smell, then or now,” Hermione said softly, leaning her shoulder gently into his. With that, she took Kingsley’s cigar from his fingers once more, took a final puff with a smile, and then stubbed it out. With a beckoning smile, Hermione gestured for him to follow her in to the Burrow, and as he crossed the threshold he felt the gentle wave of her magic wash over him as she cast a wandless freshening charm on the both of them, leaving an unexpectedly aroused feeling on his skin.

\- - - - -

Dinner was lovely. It reminded Hermione of all of her favorite things about the people she had loved and missed while abroad. Mrs. Weasley was clearly in her element having her large brood and extended family present – the smile never left her face. Mr. Weasley bounced his first granddaughter on his knee, little Victoire Weasley, who had all of the charm and sneakiness combined of Bill and Fleur. Harry had his arm slung around Daphne as he conversed easily across the table with Percy and Andromeda. Andromeda had a sleepy Teddy laid across her chest. Kingsley and Ginny were having an animated conversation at the other end of the table with Draco chiming in when they got particularly excited over something. It occurred to Hermione that Ginny wasn’t quite as casual about Draco as she seemed to project if he was fitting in so seamlessly at a Weasley family dinner.

Deep in thought, Hermione was pulled back to the present as George leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Galleon for your thoughts, Ms. Granger, because we all know your thoughts are never worth anything less,” with a smirk. Hermione took a moment to gather her thoughts and then turned back towards George. “I think I’d become numb to just how much I missed when I was abroad,” Hermione mused. “In the beginning I’m sure the sense of loss was acute, but I was dealing with so much from the fallout from Ron that I think I forgot just how much I needed and loved you all,” she said contemplatively. “I went three years without any of this, and now I’m not entirely sure why I insisted on such self-imposed isolation,” she finished sadly.

“You know, love, I never quite understood it myself. You had so many people here that were in your corner, but it never quite seemed to be enough for you. You always seemed to underestimate how valued you were by those of us that loved you,” George said kindly. “I think it all seemed to stem from just how blindsided I was by Ron,” she responded thoughtfully. “How could I have been so wrong about someone who had been one of my closest friends growing up, and that I trusted enough to be in a romantic relationship with? I was supposed to be important to him, and he used me, betrayed my trust, and violated so many of my principles publicly,” she continued with a look of regret falling across her face. “Somehow I guess that translated out to not wanting to be so horribly disappointed again. If he was supposed to be in my corner, how could I trust that anyone else really would be too?” Hermione said in a jaded voice.

“I know it sounds stupid, as I sit here and say it out loud, but goodness. It was a lot harder to silence my inner voice three years ago. And it was absolutely screaming _Trust only yourself!_ As loudly as humanly possible,” she said ruefully. “Well you did come home Hermione. You have friends here. You’re here now,” George replied sympathetically. “And I, for one, am glad to have you back. What do you say to me taking you out for brunch tomorrow morning? There’s a café near my home in Hogsmeade, and I’d really like to catch up,” he said hopefully. “What do you say?”

“George, that sounds lovely. Send me a note with a time and an address and I’ll meet you there,” Hermione said with a hint of relief in her voice. Nodding in confirmation, George found her hand resting in her lap and gave it a warm squeeze. Hermione’s heart warmed at the support and gentle understanding George offered her. _That man is truly a gem,_ Hermione thought to herself.

Hermione shifted her attention back to the rest of the dinner table, and was soon pulled into a conversation with Ginny. Ginny had finished regaling her end of the table with scandalous stories of Quidditch pitch rivalries, including a few about Kingsley’s favorite team the Montrose Magpies, and she drew Hermione back to reality into a conversation with Draco, Kingsley and herself.

As dinner ended, and they relocated to the Weasley’s sitting room and Harry joined their small group. As he took a seat near Hermione, their conversation turned towards some of the most recent Wizengamot decisions, and the public frustration that was mounting in regards to their skewed sense of justice. Apparently, the Chief Warlock had a propensity for refusing to deliberate certain classes of civil and family trials, citing them as lower priority than the more prestigious criminal matters before the court. It appeared that Phineas Bullard had taken a rapid departure from his predecessors’ over-involvement in matters of inheritance, lineage, and birthright, but in some ways his course correction was no less sinister in nature. In the last five years, it had become almost impossible to gain the audience of the Wizengamot if the matter before the court had been brought by a half-blood or Muggleborn, and was a civil matter involving property disputes, matters of restitution, or inheritance. Matters initiated by Pureblood families seemed to receive consistent timely adjudication, but recently several complaints had crossed Harry’s Auror desk from families struggling to get their day in court. With his general fame, and renowned respect for wizards of all heritage, Harry often became the last ditch effort for witches and wizards who felt like they had run out of options in the justice system, begging Harry to investigate or re-direct the handling of their case.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised at this wave of complaints, Harry, but I’ve been hearing disturbing allegations along those lines as well against the Chief Warlock,” Kingsley dejectedly sighed. “Phineas Bullard is a relic from the interim, and he has proven exceptionally hard to rid from my administration,” he continued. “Phineas’ capacity for evading hard questions, delegating out dubious tasks so they are not attributed to him personally, and consolidating influence is quite remarkable. He is slippery and it has been nearly impossible to get even a hint of charges to stick to the man.”

“I’ve never had good interactions with him, myself,” Harry remarked, “I’ve always thought he saw me as a threat, which rarely makes for a pleasant conversation with the man.”

“If you think your experiences with the man have been unpleasant, I assure they are nothing compared to mine,” Draco chimed in. “Bullard was the Chief Warlock who oversaw my acquittal. You established yourself as a PR threat and political rival when you testified on my behalf, Harry. I’m certain he never forgave you, and has consequently taken his resentment out on me over the years,” a beleaguered Draco sighed. “I never expected to outrun my past, but I did at least hope for a chance to rewrite my present and future, and the man never seemed to deem me worthy. He seemed to doggedly follow my moves and career advances after my trial,” he continued. “Did you know that I had a tentative offer from the Ministry after I finished my economic apprenticeship? One day, I was being given consideration for a position in the Wizarding Financial Relations office within the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and the next day the offer was revoked without reason.”

“Draco!” Hermione cried, outraged on his behalf. “We had no idea. How could that have been allowed? Kingsley, did you know?” Hermione demanded. A dark look briefly flashed across Kingsley’s face. “Draco, if I had known I would have acted,” he said in a pained voice. “You have to know how much I trust you as my advisor, and that if I had any inkling of this miscarriage of justice I would have done whatever I could to right this wrong.”

Draco smiled appreciatively at that. “I know, but you have to understand. For so long, the Malfoy name has been associated with calling in favors to advance the family interests. For me, it was just another way to prove I am not my father.” At that, Ginny leaned in and gave Draco’s hand a squeeze, resting her head on his shoulder as a show of support and comfort.

Kingsley’s look intensified as he turned to Hermione. “Hermione, this is why your work is so important. You are the woman for this moment. We have to reform what is our current system of justice, or rather dubious lack thereof. It starts with the Chief Warlock, and trickles down,” he said in a fiery tone, but then paused. “Although, I heard that you may have already gone toe-to-toe with Phineas, and that you clearly established yourself as the witty and formidable opponent that you are,” he said with a sly smile.

Hermione blushed furiously at that. It was one thing for Evelyn to have witnessed and approved of that particular showdown, but Kingsley’s outward acknowledgment and tacit approval sent a happy tingling feeling from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes.

“That’s our Hermione,” Harry cheered. “Merlin, if she gives the Chief Warlock half the run for his money that she gave Skeeter and Umbridge, he won’t even know what hit him,” he said with a cheeky smile and wink.

“Harry, we’re not supposed to mention that! Not in front of the Minister!” Hermione squeaked, burying her face in her hands and trying to control her laughter. Kingsley’s laugh was deep and free in response to her sudden freak out, and the sound of it caused an unexpected flutter in her stomach, like butterflies. “I sense a story, or two,” he said with a raise of a single eyebrow and an imperious look.

And so the conversation shifted from the Wizengamot to Harry reminiscing about some of Hermione’s more relatively unknown adventures at Hogwarts and their year on the run. Ginny had a few stories of her own to share as well over the years, but it was Draco’s recollection of that fateful encounter in their third year that resulted in Hermione’s much deserved punch to the face that caused the group to descend into uncontrolled laughter.

It was with a full heart hours later, still high on the love and laughter from her return to the Burrow, that Hermione found herself falling into her bed, drifting off to sleep with the sound of a rich and clear laugh, a sly smile, and the feel of Kingsley’s gentle fingers on her mind as she slipped into a night of pleasant dreams.

\- - - - -

Hermione woke to an owl tapping at her bedroom window after the sun was well in the sky the next morning. If an owl could possibly be described as having a goofy visage, it was this one – which naturally meant that it belonged to George Weasley, Hermione assumed. Inside the note was an address, a time, and an ostentatiously scrawled “G.W.” at the bottom of the piece of parchment. Hermione cast a quick tempus charm, and realized it was nine-thirty. George’s note said eleven o’clock so Hermione decided if she was going to be on time she needed to get her lazy arse out of bed. Usually she was an early riser, but she realized that the food, conversation, cocktails with Astoria and Padma, and her incredibly busy first week must have caught up with her last night.

She stood up, stretching leisurely in the morning sun, and then padded softly towards her bathroom to begin her morning ablutions. After enjoying a refreshing shower, Hermione entered her walk-in wardrobe to choose an outfit for the day. Hermione’s weekends were for comfort, on principle. She spent so much time during the week projecting a professional and polished outward look, that during her down time she preferred the exclusive casual comfort of muggle fashion. To be fair, Hermione’s version of comfortable muggle fashion was still composed of classic, well made pieces, but her jeans and blouses and dresses were cute, and made her feel like a more relaxed version of herself. She grabbed a pair of ankle length skinny jeans which she rolled at the ends, and an off the shoulder short sleeved floral dolman top that was tied at the waist. She finished the look with a flowery golden pair of chandelier earrings, an oversized pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses, and she slipped her feet into a pair of strappy flat sandals. Giving herself a satisfied once over in the mirror, she grabbed a vintage crossbody purse, and with a gentle scratch of Nyx’s ears as he slept on her wardrobe dressing chair, she turned on the spot and disappeared with a pop.

Hermione landed in the designated Hogsmeade Apparition point and began to walk towards the downtown area which had blossomed into a charming village center in recent years. Following the War, rebuilding and relocation efforts had created a migration of wizarding families to areas where support was readily available. George had elected to relocate to Hogsmeade in the wake of the Second Wizarding War as well. Hermione knew from their previous interactions that the Alley was too full of ghosts for George after Fred had died, and that the apartment they shared was no place for him to continue living alone if he wanted to stay sane. He had moved back to the Burrow long enough to train the new manager for Weasley Wizard Wheezes, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He had a surprising knack for levity and a keen business sense, and took over at their original location. George then promptly bought Zonko’s as a second location in Hogsmeade and threw himself into the creation and running of a new WWW store. For the first two years, George lived in an apartment above the old Zonko’s store that was his new location. But after he and Angelina settled down and decided to make a real go of it, they had purchased a little cottage in the residential section of the village and had been building a life for themselves in Hogsmeade ever since. George had even taken on a leadership role in his new community, creating a business collective that encouraged collaboration between the independent business owners to increase publicity and profits, and that gave them a platform to collaborate with Hogwarts on offering apprenticeship opportunities for sixth and seventh year students to engage in over the summer.

A few turns and a short walk later, Hermione found herself outside of a lovely little café with patio garden seating named The Hideaway. She stepped into the entryway, and gave George’s name to the hostess. With a cheerful smile, she led Hermione to a shaded table in what felt like a fantasy cottage garden where George was already seated and contentedly sipping a lemonade. He lifted his drink to her in greeting with a warm smile.

Hermione carefully took her seat, set her bag and sunglasses to the side, and gave George an appraising look. “Happiness looks good on you, George,” she decided. “You know, after last night, I have to say the same goes for you,” George parried with a smirk. “After our few meetings in Paris over the years, I wondered if you saw the changes that I saw. I get it now, that you were doing what you needed to – what you felt you had to do to get back your sense of independence and self-worth. But I don’t think that you were truly happy when you were in your mastery. Your smiles never quite reached your eyes, the way they finally did last night.”

“You had your own journey too, George,” Hermione gently reminded him. “After Fred died, you worked through things none of us could possibly imagine to get back to a place where you felt comfortable in your own skin. And you did it largely alone,” she said softly. “You’re right, I did push people away,” he admitted. “But I also had Angie, and I had a network of people who cared in my own backyard. Some days, quite literally, as you know how persistent my sister and mother can be. They would show up and refuse to leave on those days until they knew I wasn’t planning on offing myself. Though they’ll never admit it, they’re cut from the same cloth when it comes to protecting and loving the people in their lives. You could have used that support too,” he said pointedly, raising one of his brows at Hermione.

“You’re right,” Hermione sighed as she settled back into her chair. “About all of it. I see that now, but if you tell anyone I told you that I was wrong, I will deny it up and down until I am blue in the face in public,” she said with an exaggerated aggrieved sigh, designed to bring a smile to George’s face.

“Well, we all know that I’m the smartest and most charming of the Weasleys. If anyone was going to live to see this day, we should have guessed it would be me. But don’t worry, I won’t tell. We’re all entitled to our secrets,” he said with a smile. “That being said, I learned quite a few of yours at dinner last night. I had no idea our beloved Ms. Granger had such a devious streak,” waggling his eyebrows at Hermione in a suggestive manner. With a relieved giggle, Hermione picked up the menu in front of her and began to ask George about new developments in his business and the Hogsmeade business collective.

That topic carried them through a delicious brunch of a traditional fry up for George which Hermione stole bites of when she thought he wasn’t looking, and the lighter fare of an omelette and toast for her, with the two sharing mimosas and lots of laughs, as well as stimulating intellectual conversation. George was remarkably educated on the ins and outs of marketing, product development, and the investment challenges for expanding R&D to include a wider line of defense products.

They had settled into a comfortable silence as they finished their meal, and George signaled for the bill. As they waited, Hermione observed George silently. She could see his body posture change, and his energy became increasingly fidgety. “You have something on your mind,” Hermione blurted out. With a chagrined look, she started to apologize for her lack of tact, but George waved her apology away and said, “No, you’re right.”

He crossed an ankle to his knee, settled back into his chair, and twisted his hands resting in his lap. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, George took a deep breath and began to speak his mind. “Hermione, I don’t know if I’m the right person to tell you this, or if this is the right time or place but I can’t not be honest with you, even if it’s by omission. I’ve missed our friendship, and I know if I don’t come clean with you I would lose out on you being one of my trusted confidantes. I don’t want that, so even if what I’m about to say may be hard for you to listen to, I need you to hear me out.”

With a tense nod, Hermione indicated George should continue. “I received a letter the other day. It was from Wingate.” At this, Hermione drew a sharp breath. “They have a review board for inmates’ sentencing, and after nearly four years with good behavior, Ron’s case has come up for review. Apparently, Ronald listed me as a character and employment reference, which I still don’t totally understand. After what he did to you, I don’t know how he could think that I would have anything resembling a good word on his behalf. But once I held the letter in my hands, I couldn’t stop thinking about two things. The first, being you.”

He paused, fiddling with a napkin, unwilling to meet Hermione’s gaze as he stared off into the distance. “All that I could think of was how he didn’t deserve leniency for what he did. He deserved to actually be held accountable for the embarrassment he put you through, and the laws he recklessly disregarded along the way. But then I started thinking about how much I’ve lost during the war. And how I don’t know if I’m ready to face down a destroyed relationship with another brother. After everything that happened with Percy,” George said with a crack in his voice, “and after the loss of Fred, I don’t know if I can stomach being estranged from Ron. So I contacted Wingate asking about the letter, and they told me that Ron had listed me as a possible source of employment upon his release.”

George’s voice took on a hardened edge, “And when they told me that, I just had this initial sense of rage. How could he possibly think that I would trust him with my livelihood? That I would trust him with anything that Fred and I built after what he did with the finances of all of those charities? Right then and there I decided it wasn’t going to happen.”

George let out an angry exhale, and then continued in a somewhat deflated voice. “But then I thought about Mum, and I thought about how if I made a choice that put Ron at risk of never having the chance of returning to a normal life, to a life where he might be able to get on the right track, that burden would fall to her and Dad instead once he gets out. And my folks are wonderful parents, but they make excuses for him in moments where he needs tough love. And then I realized that I could be that tough love. What if I gave him an out where he could make something of himself? Where if he doesn’t cut it, I’ll write him off the same way that I did when he went to prison the first time? But where if he’s serious about correcting his path, I can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get off track. I mean, who knows my businesses better than I do? He’s not going to pull the wool over my eyes with my finances or logistics. I have safeguards in place, and you know my records are immaculate,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes.

A beat later, he refocused on Hermione, and continued. “But then I thought about having this conversation with you, and I lost my nerve. And then seeing you last night, I got it back. There was something about seeing you with people who support you that made me realize, I want to give Ron that same chance. But I’m not going to do it behind your back. I want you to know what I plan to do, and how I plan to do it. And I want you to take my word as my bond that if the bugger blows all of this goodwill to shite, it’s your camp I am in, firmly, at the end of the day,” he said passionately. “I need your trust, Hermione,” he finished with a pleading look. And then he waited.

“When?” Hermione inquired softly. “Six weeks at the earliest, three months at the latest, depending on when his case comes up for official review. This was just a preliminary fact-finding letter,” George said with a sigh.

Hermione leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. She stared off into space at his response, and George could see her mind working behind her eyes. The shift was subtle in her face, but George knew the moment that Hermione made her decision. “Contact Wingate and tell them you’ve got a position for him,” Hermione said with a tone of finality in her voice. She turned towards him and stared with a fierce look that pierced his soul. “I hope to gods, George, that you know what you’re doing, but you also know me and have been there for me in ways in which I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am. So I’m going to trust you to keep doing the right thing. Neither of us know how to do anything else,” she said firmly.

George gently leaned towards her and pulled her into a hug. He tried to infuse all of the love, warmth, and appreciation he had for the witch in his arms into his hug. There were few people that had been brave enough or empathetic enough to reach George in those early days after Fred’s death. Hermione had been one of the few that could read him like a book. It really shouldn’t have surprised him, since she was the only person who consistently could differentiate between him and Fred in their Hogwarts days. She had known when to sit and be present, when to listen and when to distract, and when to push him beyond the comfort zones of his grief and begin the process of truly healing. And that she was now trusting him to manage her greatest source of betrayal and shame, and not hurt her in the process, meant more to him than he could put words to.

He felt her start to let go of the hug, so he released her gently and murmured a “Thank you,” in her ear. He turned his attention to the waitress who approached with the bill, quickly dropped his galleons to the table and then offered Hermione a hand to help her to her feet. She took his hand, then grabbed her purse and glasses, and threaded her arm through his. George escorted her out of the café, and then continued to walk her to the Apparition point. They walked in silence, and when they arrived at the point, George pulled Hermione into a final hug and bid her a goodbye. With quick turn on her heel, Hermione disappeared with a pop and landed back in her entryway.

\- - - - -

Night had fallen, and Hermione was seated out on a hanging bench in her back garden. The frame of the bench was wrapped in ivy, and made Hermione feel like she was in a fairy garden. She hugged one knee to her chest with her left arm, and grasped a mug of tea in her in her right hand, rocking and sipping in the moonlight. The air was warm and humid for early June in London, but tonight it was a balm for Hermione’s anxious soul.

Her thoughts ran wild in the dark, and she forced herself to take deep breaths to try and regain a peaceful center. As her thoughts quieted, she found herself returning to one main idea that the last twenty-four hours had firmly reinforced. Hermione had officially made her return. She had made her debut and was definitively home. She had a career she was excited for, a home she was making her own, and friends back in her life whom she loved dearly. But Hermione wasn’t the only one who needed a soft place to land. Ron’s renewed presence in her life may not yet have been physical, but of one thing Hermione was sure: he had returned.


	5. Chapter 5: The Drawing Board

Chapter 5: The Drawing Board

Hermione found herself starting her Sunday morning in a muggle café near her house. After a night of restless sleep, Hermione needed a long run and a healthy dose of espresso to get her mind straight. Five miles later, Hermione stopped at a coffeehouse a mile from her townhome. She figured that a cool down walk with a dirty chai tea latte would give her a chance to process some of her thoughts from yesterday, as well as make a plan for the rest of her day. Today, she was going to tackle formatting her notes and research for the Task Force to help her visualize and anticipate their challenges and plan out their first steps. Her initial deep dive into the Wizengamot’s history, current status, legal precedents, and overall inefficiencies were mind boggling in scope and scale.

Hermione entered the coffeehouse and placed her order, adding an iced scone because the lack of sleep had given her an early morning sweet tooth. She was waiting at a table for her order to be prepared and had become consumed by her thoughts, so she was easily startled when a deep voice standing over her table said her name.

“Kingsley! What a surprise,” Hermione said looking flustered. Kingsley chuckled at her response, “So much for ‘constant vigilance’,” he shot back with a cheeky grin. “Gads, Moody really would be disappointed in me,” she said with an exaggerated sigh and a wry smile. “What are you doing here, Kings? This is the last place that I would have ever imagined running into you,” she asked. “Would you like to join me?” as Hermione gestured to the open seat next to her. With a nod and a smile, Kingsley sat at Hermione’s side. “The coffee here is some of my favorite in the city,” Kingsley said as he raised his own to-go cup towards Hermione. “When we were on the hunt for Sirius in your third year, I had a crash pad not far from here,” he continued. “The Ministry maintained a few like it for Aurors who were assigned to missions that required integration in the muggle world. The crash pads became the muggle addresses they used for our papers, and we were able to stay there while on assignment.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Hermione said, genuinely surprised. “You really were undercover, so to speak.” Kingsley grinned sheepishly, “I recognized your address when I saw your new-hire paperwork. These are my old stomping grounds.” “You must mean that quite literally,” Hermione said with a smile. “You look like you’re dressed for a run.” She had covertly been admiring just how fine he looked in his very muggle workout clothes. He wore a fitted tee royal blue shirt, and a pair black running shorts with athletic trainers. But it wasn’t the clothes themselves that had caught Hermione’s attention, it was the very fit and muscular physique that they revealed beneath. He had strong arms, a defined abdomen that hinted at the muscles underneath, and well defined legs that suggested the man was one to rarely miss a workout. _Could he honestly be any more good looking?_ Hermione wondered as she felt an unexpected sensation of heat pool in her lower abdomen.

“I try to get out early in the mornings at least four days a week, but I tend to hit the streets a bit later on weekends. My indulgence,” he grinned. “I didn’t know you were a runner though, Hermione,” he said. “Yet another of my patented Hermione Granger avoidance techniques,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “You know, right up there with fleeing the country to earn a mastery. Clears my head and all that. Excuse me, but I’ll be right back. I think that was my order.” Hermione got up to fetch her coffee and scone from the counter.

Kingsley chuckled at that and watched her walk away. _Damn, her running clothes were flattering_ , Kingsley thought to himself as he observed her retreating form. She was incredibly fit, and her tight athletic wear showed off her attractive shape. She was well proportioned, toned, and lithe. Kingsley filed those mental images away to ponder at a later time, because he was starting to wonder what she’d look like with that kind of body in a dress on a date, and those were definitely not thoughts he wanted to sort through in public. “So what are we avoiding today?” Kingsley asked, as Hermione returned to their table. She shot him a perturbed look, and deliberately bit into her scone and took a sip of her latte before dignifying him with a response.

“Ron,” she said abruptly. “Well, that’s certainly not the response I expected. What are you talking about, Hermione?” Kingsley inquired with a concerned look on his face. He reached forward and placed his hand on hers with a gentle squeeze. “What has changed since I saw you last?”

“I had brunch with George yesterday,” she said quietly. “And while I love the man dearly, and it was so nice catching up with him, he delivered some news that I was not expecting. It had to do with Ron,” she said with a sigh and then took another sip of her latte.

“What did he have to say?” Kingsley asked, concern still visible on his face. “Ron is up for consideration of release. When he hits the four-year mark, he will be eligible for sentencing review based upon good behavior. Preliminary fact-finding letters have gone out from the review board to assess his eligibility. George received one stating that Ron had listed him as a character and employment reference,” she sighed heavily. “George is going to write the review board and tell them that upon Ronald’s release, he would have a tentative offer of employment at WWW.”

Kingsley rocked back in his chair at that. Then in a deadly serious voice he asked, “Hermione, do you want me to intervene?” A shocked look passed across Hermione’s face, “What? No, Kingsley. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Especially when I gave George my permission to write the review board with the employment offer,” she said with a sigh.

Kingsley blinked owlishly at that. “…you did what?” _Merlin, if anyone could keep me guessing, it would certainly be Hermione Granger,_ Kingsley thought to himself. The silence built as Hermione seemed lost in thought. “I have to live with myself at the end of each and every day, Kings. I have to be at peace with my decisions. So, I know you may not understand it, but denying Ron a chance for redemption goes against every ethos I hold dearly. I couldn’t live with myself if I told George anything else.”

The witch in front of him was a rarity, Kingsley realized. Granted, he had figured that out long ago, but this particular conversation just reinforced it in new and complicated ways. Hermione Granger was intellect, beauty, empathy, grace, and righteousness personified. And while she may have thought that Kingsley wouldn’t understand her choice, she had no idea just how much he actually sympathized. Life as the Minister of a post-War society was anything but easy; Kingsley had a deep appreciation for just how far the ripple effect of every single one of his Ministerial decisions could go. And rightly, or wrongly, he had to live with his decisions each and every night. He understood having a moral code and trying to live by it, even when it was anything but easy.

“Mione, I get it,” he said softly, trying to ease the tension he saw in her eyes and her posture. “If anything, I admire you more for it.” Hermione made eye contact with him at that, and he could see the relief flood through her. “You have to know that I would support any decision you made when it comes to Ron, wholeheartedly. You’re my friend.”

Hermione broke off a corner of her scone, bringing to her mouth, and then sipped her latte contemplatively. “We are friends, aren’t we?” Hermione posited with gratitude in her voice. “Thank you for that,” Hermione said softly. She seemed to become lost in thought once more, and Kingsley began to feel like he was intruding on a rather private moment of introspection. Clearing his throat, he rose from the table, intending to take his leave. But when he did so, Hermione seemed to snap out of it, and rose with him. “I’m so glad that I ran into you this morning, Kingsley. You’ve brought peace to my heart over this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk to someone about this.” She reached out and grabbed his forearm, stopping him from leaving, and instead pulled him towards her. It only took a moment for her arms to slip around his lower back as she pulled him into a hug.

It was the nicest hug he’d received, in recent memory. It was a hug full of intention, gratitude, genuine warmth, and a score of emotions Kingsley wanted to put names to but didn’t dare just yet. It was the kind of hug that made the borderline between friendship and something more dissolve the longer it continued, so he held on tight. Eventually, he felt Hermione begin to pull away and so he gently let her exit his embrace. She turned to grab her remaining coffee and scone, and then gestured for him to lead the way out of the coffeehouse.

Outside of the coffeehouse, Hermione gave Kingsley a small wave goodbye and said a quiet “Thank you,” and began the walk back to her townhome. Kingsley lingered, watching her retreating form, and took a sip of his coffee. His unexpected rendezvous with the singular Ms. Granger had given him quite a bit to think about. As she faded from his sight, he downed the rest of his coffee and tossed the cup in a nearby bin and took off at a run. He might have already done five miles today, but he had a sudden and unexplained need for additional release.

\- - - - -

After a quick shower and some tidying of her master suite, Hermione moved to her study and library on the lowest level of her townhome. In the past week she had managed to finalize getting her books arranged, a large L-shaped desk moved into the space, and a reading nook set up with two cozy armchairs and a small table nestled between them. On the wall above her desk, Hermione had placed a large cork board, a tool she had come to rely on during her mastery for helping visualize problems, identify interconnecting issues, and organize her notes and thoughts. At the top of the board, Hermione pinned a note with a single word on it: “WIZENGAMOT”.

Hermione then took a seat at her desk and unpacked the books she had brought home from the office. Her collection had grown significantly after her meetings with Blaise, Astoria, and Padma. All of them had been marked with little adhesive note tabs that were color coded to different topics pertaining to the Wizengamot: yellow marked information having to do with who was eligible to serve on the Wizengamot, blue marked information specifying how the Wizengamot was to be structured and its historical underpinnings, green marked case law that had changed the structure of the Wizengamot over the years, and pink tabs marked all of the places where Hermione came across information delineating the scope and jurisdiction of the Wizengamot’s ability to rule on different matters. The last set of color-coded tabs were orange, which represented facts and findings that Hermione had a gut feeling would be relevant to her work, but she wasn’t sure how just yet.

Taking out a set of index cards, a muggle notepad, and her favorite ball point pen, Hermione settled in to begin her work. She decided to start by outlining the different facts she had deemed relevant starting points for her work. On a notecard, Hermione wrote “Fact 1: general Wizengamot seats are intended to be inherited.” Pinning the card to the top left side of the board, Hermione grabbed a second note card and wrote “Fact 2: Department Heads serve as part of the Wizengamot.” On another card, Hermione wrote “Fact 3: The Wizengamot is the catch all body for legal matters in Wizarding Britain.” She grabbed a fourth notecard, and continued to write, “Fact 4: The Statute of Secrecy is an obstruction to Wizengamot reform.” Grabbing a final notecard, Hermione wrote the following, “Fact 5: The Chief Warlock is an appointed position.” Satisfied with the four notecards, Hermione stood and pinned them to her board in a row with Fact 1, just beneath the word “WIZENGAMOT”.

Moving back to her desk chair, Hermione grabbed her notepad, thought for a moment, and then began making a list. Hermione decided that listing out the problems that stemmed from each fact she had identified would help her gather and organize her thoughts about the matter, so beginning with “Problem 1A”, Hermione began to write.

**Problem 1A: Many wizarding bloodlines have run out due to a lack of male heirs**

**Problem 1B: Wizengamot seats may be gifted or appointed in the case of an insufficient heir**

**Problem 1C: Wizengamot body members may hold multiple seats based on inheritance, gifting, and appointment laws**

Using her wand, Hermione levitated the list to the board and with a quick fastening charm, pinned it beneath the first notecard with “Fact 1”. Then on a fresh sheet of notepad paper, Hermione continued to draft her second list.

**Problem 2A: Stakeholders in legislation have a seat on the Wizengamot, predisposing to bias and corruption**

**Problem 2B: Department Head schedules are not flexible for regular attendance**

She pinned this list beneath the card which established that Department Heads served as members of the Wizengamot. Then back to the drafting board, Hermione started her third list related to the wide purview of the Wizengamot.

**Problem 3A: Wide jurisdiction is an inefficient setup**

**Problem 3B: There are no specialized tracks (criminal, civil, legislative, etc.)**

**Problem 3C: Inefficiencies lead to many seats being empty during votes and assemblies with key voices being omitted**

Tearing off the top sheet of her notepad, she started a fourth list.

**Problem 4A: Upholding of the Statute of Secrecy is maintained at the individual government level – either in full or with amendments**

**Problem 4B: Statute of Secrecy reform in Britain has largely been obstructed by blood purists**

**Problem 4C: Early and effective integration of Muggleborns into Wizarding society has been limited by the Statute in its current form**

Hermione knew that her last point on the fourth list was starting to tread into complicated waters, but it was an essential issue to rectify if they hoped to enact some of the reforms that were already percolating in her mind. With a nod, Hermione tore off her fourth sheet of paper and began her last list. It was the shortest of them all but represented one of the biggest issues that Hermione had identified to date.

**Problem 5A: The only way a Chief Warlock can be removed is by full Wizengamot vote**

Hermione stood to pin the final three lists beneath their respective notecards. She took a moment to review the start of her mind map and outline. She grabbed a few more notecards from her stack of blanks, and then began to jot bullet points that elaborated on some of the problems she had identified. Under her first list, she cited the case law and code sections from the Compendium that addressed inheritance of Wizengamot seats and who was eligible to hold Wizengamot seats, as well as current legal precedent on how seats that failed to be gifted, appointed, or inherited were handed. Blaise had wrested some interesting decisions from Wizengamot in that regard, and Hermione was duly impressed. Under her fourth list, she attached a notecard delineating how Wizarding Britain and the Wizengamot had elected to uphold the Statute of Secrecy in full, in its original form, which contrasted with how the wizarding society in France had chosen to adopt the international agreement. France had passed several amendments to the document, striking out some of the strictest language from the agreement and creating more lenient terms for disseminating information to wizards and witches born to muggle parents and their families. France also elected to review the Statute every 25 years and update their continued adherence, revising terms where indicated. According to Padma’s research, the last time the Statute had come before the Wizengamot in Britain was 1750 when Clause 73 was adopted. She also jotted down a few thoughts regarding how cases of Muggleborn welfare were handled in early childhood due to the Statute of Secrecy, and the welfare of orphaned Half-bloods like Harry who had no knowledge of or family relations in the wizarding world. Finally, under her fifth list she added a card that listed the last incidence of record that the full Wizengamot had met, with every single current member being present, which happened to be during Harry’s fifth year and his full criminal trial for the use of the Patronus charm. She also made note of the current number of votes that would be required to overturn the appointment of the Chief Warlock and circled that number in red ink.

Pausing to review her work, Hermione stretched her lower back and then moved to her sitting area where she had set a pot of tea under a stasis charm. Pouring herself a cup, Hermione began to think through a plan of attack. She already had a few ideas for leveraging Evelyn and Blaise publicly to begin some of their restructuring work. She had an idea of how she wanted to focus Astoria’s talents and skills, and she was hoping that Padma could be put on a legislative hold to assist Astoria with some of the research. Padma’s legislative role would come into play after they saw some of their first attempts at restructuring the body of the Wizengamot come to fruition.

Hermione got up and moved to her work bag. From her work bag she withdrew a parchment containing a copy of Astoria’s greatest masterpiece for the Task Force to date. For the last few months, Evelyn had tasked Astoria with tracking down, verifying and profiling members of the Wizengamot. Astoria had researched the original seats, outlined the transactional paths each seat had taken up to the modern day Wizengamot configuration, and created a detailed profile for each current member or appointee highlighting their political inclinations, key voting issues, and equations that would track their voting attendance record and update daily. It was a relational map, in essence, that showed the interconnectedness of the current Wizengamot body and outlined exactly how they had arrived there. Hermione posted the parchment to its place of honor on the wall to the right of her corkboard.

As she studied Astoria’s work, Hermione began to mull over some of what she had learned this week from Blaise and Evelyn. Blaise had filled a niche prosecutorial role in the DMLE. He was responsible for prosecuting cases of internal oversight. In the course of his prosecutions, Blaise had established some important case law precedents regarding who was eligible to hold or maintain a seat in the Wizengamot. Blaise had also pushed for dismissal of certain members of the Wizengamot from voting on a case due to their presence being considered prejudicial in nature. He had taken small but slow steps in creating processes to regulate the Wizengamot via case law in ways they had never been restricted or regulated before. Evelyn had watched his skills closely for the first year, and then had offered him a spot on the Wizengamot Task Force. He was still continuing as the in-house prosecutor, but Evelyn knew that there would be a day when Blaise’s role would shift into the spotlight as they made their case for restructuring and reform.

Evelyn, however, had one of the biggest and most pressing roles to play as they began their work in earnest; though in some ways Hermione felt like she might be asking Evelyn to impale herself on a pike of her own making in the process. Evelyn was going to force a Wizengamot vote on removing Department Heads from the legal body. The issue would be framed as a means for divorcing the bureaucracy from the legislative process, as well as freeing up the Department Heads to do the important work of running their own departments without worrying about having to balance their responsibilities with their obligation to vote. Being the head of the DMLE, it would be hard to make an argument against Evelyn’s proposal because if anyone was intimately familiar with how the Wizengamot operated, it was Evelyn Roberts; if she made the case for her own removal from the body, what leg would any other department head have to stand on? Plus, Hermione was counting on Chief Warlock Bullard’s excitement to remove Evelyn as his opposition on the Wizengamot to overwhelm his politically calculating nature. It was essential that he didn’t see the move for what it was. In removing the Department Heads, it would ultimately reduce the number of votes that Hermione and her team would need in the long run to force dismantlement.

The big thing that Hermione would need to start focusing her immediate attention on was the PR campaign for the Task Force. This was going to be a campaign for reform that was won both in the courtroom and in the court of public opinion. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that public pressure on members of the Wizengamot, following the Department Heads’ removal, would be effective if she pushed on the right trigger points. Hermione’s general understanding of British Wizarding society after the war was that the average person craved transparency. They had front row seats to a government coup that occurred in a web of conspiracy, the constant parroting of lies, media control, and political corruption. It was a coup conducted in the shadows and it put the majority of witches and wizards off the taste of anything that seemed to reek of underhandedness and government manipulation. If Hermione could outline a vision for the Wizengamot that was streamlined, that separated legislative powers from judicial powers, that was based on the merit qualifications of the individuals in power, emphasized representation based on public support rather than back room transactions of power, and diversified the voices being represented, there was a chance that public opinion would overwhelm the opposition she was sure would come from the Chief Warlock’s camp.

It was nearing noon, and Hermione’s head was spinning from her work so far. What Hermione craved was a good distraction, one that would motivate her to finish her initial planning stages but would also be useful at helping her work through and untangle some of her thoughts. What she needed was a sounding board; truly, what Hermione needed was Harry. Hermione knew that she could get bogged down in the minutiae of a plan, whereas Harry kept her balanced and maintained the ability to see the forest for the trees. Making a snap decision, Hermione left her study and went to the main living area where her Floo had been connected earlier in the week. Hermione’s living area was cozy with a cream-colored L-shaped couch facing her whited painted brick fireplace, two end tables that were stacked with books and each contained a reading lamp whose base matched the light sage green color she had painted the walls. She had a white wooden bookshelf to the left of her fireplace, and a coordinating curio cabinet to the right that featured some of her collection from her magical and muggle travels. Above the mantle was a large watercolor painted scene of the Black Lake that Viktor Krum had gifted her for her birthday when she turned eighteen. It was a lovely combination of blues, greens, greys, browns, and blacks that Hermione found herself getting lost in on occasion when she would be curled up reading on her couch. The room was pulled together by an area rug that was sage green and beige in color and featured an oriental medallion and floral pattern that gave the room a charming cottage feel.

Kneeling in front of her fireplace, she grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and then called out Grimmauld Place and stuck her head into the hearth. When her head popped through on the other side, she found herself peering into Harry’s office with his back turned to her as he sat at his desk lost in what appeared to be paperwork. Trying not to startle him too badly, Hermione called out, “Hi Harry.”

Okay, so it was a little bit funny watching her best friend nearly jump straight out of his chair at the sound of her voice in his otherwise silent office, but she tried to contain her giggles as he gathered his wits and turned to face her. “Hermione, what are you doing there? Would you like to come through?” Harry offered. “No, that’s okay. I was just trying to reach you and see if you would be interested in coming around for a last-minute dinner with your best friend this evening?” she asked. “Oh, so you mean Draco’s going to be there as well?” Harry parried back to Hermione with a mischievous grin. “He can be if you’d like,” she shot back with a smirk of her own. “In all seriousness though, I’d love to have you round for dinner this evening if you don’t have any plans of your own. And if Daphne is home, she’s welcome to join as well. I have some stuff that I’ve been working on for the Task Force that I’d like to talk over with you and get your opinion on.” “Hermione, I’d love to,” Harry replied. “Daphne is planning to join Astoria and her parents for dinner this evening, so I’m on my own. And your cooking is definitely better than anything I’d pull together if left to my own devices. What time should I come through? And can I bring anything?” he added as an afterthought. “I’ll handle the dinner and the wine, but if you could stop by Hannah’s café and bring something for dessert, I’d be ever so appreciative. Does seven o’clock work for you?” Hermione asked. “I’ll be there then,” Harry confirmed. With an excited smile, Hermione bade Harry goodbye and popped back into her own living room.

Standing up from the fireplace, Hermione did some quick calculations. If she put another hour or two into her work, she could be at the market by three, and then be home by four to start her preparations for dinner, and maybe get some laundry done as well. It sounded like an excellent plan to round out her weekend, and it gave her the burst of energy she needed to see her initial planning tasks through.

Ducking into her kitchen, she grabbed a container of takeaway curry leftover from one of her late-night research dinners earlier in the week; she reheated the curry, bread, and rice and took her lunch back down to her study. As she entered the study, she turned her record player on and dropped the needle into the jazz record that had been left in the unit from the last time she had worked down there. With the sound of soft jazz in the background, Hermione cast a quick alarm charm to remind her to leave for the market in a few hours, and she got lost once more in her notetaking, research, and outlining.

\- - - - -

She was putting the finishing touches on a spring mix salad with a homemade vinaigrette, when her doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Hermione moved quickly to her front door to welcome her guest. Standing on her front step was Harry, dressed casually in jeans, but with a long-sleeved button-down shirt that was tucked and belted, and a leather boot that wasn’t exactly formal but more elevated than his usual trainers. He looked nice, in spite of the fact that his trademark black hair was its usual riotous mess. He was holding a brown box that had an easily recognizable phoenix stamped on its lid in one arm, and in the other he was holding a rather lovely bouquet of irises.

Hermione stepped aside to let him in, and as he held the flowers out to her, she cried “Oh Harry, these are positively lovely. The purples will look wonderful in this silver vase I picked up visiting Charlie in Romania. I think I’ll put them on my bedside table tonight before I sleep. They smell incredible.” She leaned in to give Harry a one-armed hug and stood on her toes to drop a friendly kiss on his cheek. “Welcome,” she said with the practiced grace of a hostess. “Do come in.”

She turned and started up her stairs to the main floor, and Harry closed her front door and followed closely behind. It was the first time he had seen Hermione’s home since she had moved in, and he couldn’t help but think the house fit her like a glove. It was cheerful on the inside, stately but charming on the exterior, and filled to the brim with books. He followed her into her kitchen which was light and airy and welcoming. The fact that delicious scents were wafting from the oven and the stovetop didn’t hurt either. The kitchen was painted a light grey with white cabinets and quartz countertops that seemed to change color in the evening light, appearing white, silver, and lilac all at once. He set the pastry box on the kitchen island and settled in to one of the seats at the island bar.

“Can I get you something to drink, Harry?” Hermione asked as she pulled down the silver vase and set the flowers on her the windowsill over her sink. “Whatever you’re having would be fine,” Harry replied. She pulled a chilled bottle of white wine out of the refrigerator and poured both of them a glass. She took a small sip and with a smile turned back to her final dinner preparations. Harry was content to just sit back and observe his friend in her new home. One of the perks of a lifetime of friendship was the ability to coexist in silence and not always feel pressured to talk. Watching Hermione in the kitchen was a new experience for him, but he found that it was incredibly interesting. Her confidence that previously only shone through when she was mastering a new form of magic seemed to manifest as well while she worked in the kitchen. She orchestrated the final touches on their meal in what could only be described as a dance. Moments later Harry was handed the salad bowl and his wine to take over to her dining nook, and Hermione followed with two plates artfully arranged with Greek chicken, haricots verts with roasted fingerling potatoes, and a seasoned couscous that smelled heavenly. She had pre-set the table, so after setting his contributions down, he turned to pull out Hermione’s chair. She shot him a grateful smile, and set their plates down before taking her seat.

“Hermione, this looks absolutely mouthwatering,” Harry mused as he took his own seat. “Thank you for having me over. It’s been a long time since we got to do this on British soil,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrows. “It really has, Harry. Three years is a long time, and that’s entirely my fault,” she said with a sigh. “But it doesn’t mean that I didn’t miss this, or you while I was away. I’d certainly like to try and make up for lost time now that I’m back home.” With a pleased smile, Harry nodded and then began to tuck into his plate. It was as good as it looked, and Harry made sure to tell Hermione just that. They ate the first few bites of their meal and then Hermione broke the silence.

“So, Harry, tell me what the Auror department is working on these days. I’m afraid it has become quite clear just how out of the loop I am on Ministry happenings, and I’d love to hear about what you’re working on currently.” And with that, their conversation took on a easy flow as they discussed the happenings of the DMLE. As Harry filled Hermione in on his job and coworkers, he asked her about her first week in her new position. They enjoyed a natural back and forth in conversation that reflected their years of close friendship.

After finishing their dinners, they moved to Hermione’s kitchen and Harry rolled up his sleeves to help with the dishes. By this point, they’d moved on to discussing the recent work of Harry’s peers that Hermione had lunched with on her first day. Hermione was fascinated by just how integral and politically savvy the group of them seemed. For being only five years post-Hogwarts, their little cohort had amassed a rather large amount of government work experience and political clout. In spite of making their career debuts into a Ministry in chaos, they had used the notoriety of being the generation of Dumbledore’s Army and peers of the Golden Trio and had figured out a way to be leaders in their own right. Their work was impressive, cohesive, and, from what Hermione could tell, very much needed.

As Harry finished the washing, Hermione moved to set the dessert from Phoenix Rising onto plates; then, handing one to Harry she asked him to follow her to her library. They took their plates downstairs and made their way to the sitting area in Hermione’s study.

As Harry settled in and took a bite of his tiramisu, Hermione tried to figure out how to start in on what she had really asked him over to talk about. “Harry, how much has Kingsley told you about the purpose of the Task Force?” she asked, trying to gauge his pre-existing knowledge. “Well, I know more from Blaise, Astoria, and Padma than I do directly from Kingsley, but from what I understand he and Evelyn are working to change how the Wizengamot operates. It’s not exactly clear how he intends to do that, but that’s as much as I’ve gathered from your coworkers.”

Hermione paused and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say next. “Harry, Kingsley wants to dismantle the Wizengamot. Not just change it but entirely restructure it and strip it of its current modus operandi.”

He blinked, dumbfounded. “Pardon? Did you just say dismantle the Wizengamot, Hermione? I could have sworn you said dismantle, restructure and strip the Wizengamot,” he clarified. Hermione could only nod in response. She set aside her dessert plate and waved her wand at the wall above her desk. Where it had previously appeared to be a blank yellow wall, a massive cork board and large parchment appeared.

Harry stood up from his chair and moved quickly towards her work area. His eyes scanned her notes, flow charts, lists, and grew wider with each bit of writing he took in. He then moved to study Astoria’s masterpiece, and it was at that point that Hermione literally watched his jaw drop open as comprehension dawned across his face. His finger gently traced some of the branches of Astoria’s map, as he muttered quietly to himself. “Holy shite, Hermione, and Merlin’s saggy brass balls,” Harry exclaimed. “This is wild, but damn it all if I don’t think you might actually pull this off!”

He came back to his seat beside her and faced her directly. “Tell me everything.” And so, she did. Thirty minutes later, they had moved from the seating area to stand in front of her cork board again. She had talked Harry through the facts as she knew them to be, the problems she had identified, and her initial thoughts for the first steps towards to making reform a reality.

“This is only going to swing in our favor if I play the media and the general public the right way. Which on one level is appalling to me that I’m even considering manipulating the public discourse, but then I think about how I’ve done it before to get people to believe you when you said Voldemort had returned. So maybe this isn’t as out of character for me as I would like to believe,” she said with a sigh. Harry reached down and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hermione, you’ve always been a visionary, and you’ve always had the courage to do what needed to be done to see your plans realized. This is no different. And frankly, it seems to me that this is exactly what Kingsley and Evelyn hired you for. You know how to portray yourself publicly, appeal to the masses, and are savvy enough to anticipate and thwart the opposition. They hired you because you are good at this, and they know that they need you. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed by that, love.”

“I’m not embarrassed, so to speak. Frankly, I’m more worried that I’m not ruthless enough to actually pull this off. What if I fail? But, Harry, if we can make this happen, if we can rebuild our systems of justice and law making, think about all of the good we can do for this world,” she said passionately. Her best friend placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. His hug was just the centering comfort Hermione needed. She released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding into his chest, and then whispered, “Thank you.”

Harry stepped back from her and placed both of his hands on her shoulders. He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “You are not in this alone. If there comes a time where you need my public or private support, you have it unconditionally, Hermione. I am here for you, and I am so incredibly proud of you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief in response. “I needed to hear that, Harry. And I honestly do think there will be a day where I will ask you to make a statement or show of support publicly, but I just don’t know when. It helps, knowing I have your backing.” She stepped away from Harry’s embrace, and moved to grab their empty dessert plates. “Let’s head back upstairs and you can help me finish this bottle of wine before you go,” Hermione said with a smile.

And so, it was sharing a bottle of wine on her couch with her best friend, talking and laughing, that Hermione ended her most favorite night since returning to London. There were some things that only got better with age, and Hermione knew that her friendship with Harry was one of those things. She bid him goodnight as he stepped into the Floo around midnight, and then turned to tidy up the remaining detritus from their evening catching up.

With Harry’s flowers in her arms, Hermione made her way up to her bedroom with Nyx twisting between her feet. She was experiencing the heady rush of being just a bit wine drunk as she readied herself for bed, and she set the flowers on her bedside table before she collapsed into her mattress, lying spread eagle on her back. The cool sheets felt good against her flushed skin. She felt Nyx hop up on the bed and settle next to her right hip. As she mindlessly began scratching his ears, Hermione’s thoughts shifted lazily from her dinner and conversation with Harry, to a different, earlier, conversation with someone else she was beginning to consider a friend. Kingsley and his impressively fit physique rapidly dominated her thoughts. She blushed slightly at how she had wrapped herself around him without much forethought and dumped all of her emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface into her hug at the coffeehouse. She was certain he had perceived everything she had been trying to convey, and she wondered if he had only returned her hug out of a sense of embarrassment or obligation towards the emotional witch. Either way, she wasn’t going to figure Kingsley Shacklebolt out tonight. Her mind was fuzzy and sleepy, and it was time for rest. Tomorrow was going to be a big day for her and her team, and she needed to get to bed. She rolled onto her side, twisting to rest her head onto her pillows, and pulled the covers up over her legs. Nyx readjusted and settled onto her stomach, purring contentedly; and it was to his soft vibrations that Hermione drifted into a deep sleep.


End file.
